The Girl with The Blue Lotus Tattoo
by Annamonk
Summary: This is a story about second chances and sacrifice. I wasn't planning on posting this now, but events conspire at times. Once again, this is not my sandbox, but I so love building castles.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione returned to Britain from her four year stint as an apprentice curse breaker. Her time in Egypt left her tanned and confident. She smiled frequently and laughed loudly. Gringots was happy to forgive her debt and her part in the dragon theft, and she was happy to continue working with the goblins.

She settled in quickly, returning to life on her native shores with ease.

She whistled at work. It drove Bill Weasley spare as his office was next to hers. It made everyone else oddly happy.

Then, one day, it stopped.

Bill took a deep breath as he entered the room. Hermione was centered on the task before her. A string of opal cabochons sparkled on her embroidered bit of dragon hide. Removing the curses from family heirlooms was a full time job these days.

"You're not at it today, Songbird?" Bill leaned against one of her overstuffed bookcases.

"I'm trying to finish this." She took a deep breath and twisted her wand around in an odd runic array. "Stupid Pucey wants to give his fiancée the family opals for her birthday."

He watched her work and considered how to broach the subject of his suspicions with her. She was too damn smart for him to fool and too damn powerful for him to intimidate. He hoped he was wolf enough to pull off a blunt attack.

"What should I tell Mum when you don't present yourself for dinner tomorrow night?" Bill watched her closely. There had to be a tell.

"I've arranged an owl. She won't worry." Hermione took a deep cleansing breath and flicked her wand. The necklace glowed for a moment as the curse lifted. "Another gaudy necklace ready to blind casual passers by."

"I think I deserve more information than that." Bill glared at her and lifted his lip in a slight threat.

"You're so cute, Bill." Hermione chuckled and boxed the necklace. "Did you really think you would intimidate me?"

"I know what you've done, what you're doing. I apprenticed in Egypt as well." Bill crossed his arms over his chest. "You think I didn't consider doing the same damn thing?"

"If it works, I've stored enough virgin blood for George to try, but I'm not going after Fred." She took a deep breath and stood up. Her hands pressed flat to the top of her desk as she leaned forward. "I have a promise to keep."

"If he won't come back, you'll die. Your body will go on, but you'll be gone." Bill stepped forward and started to pace. "Harry would rather have you around than lose you on the chance that Sirius might come back."

"I'm not going after Sirius either." Hermione giggled. "I loved the man, but no."

"Then who?" Bill laced his fingers together behind his neck.

"Does it matter?" Hermione grabbed a bottle of fire whiskey from her desk drawer and poured him a generous glass. "Nothing you say can deter me. I have spent years preparing for this. I'm strong enough. If he chooses to remain where he is, I can accept it. I visited the island. I know what will be left of me if I fail."

"So, you're going to use all the power you've stored in the very cells of your being to bring back someone that's passed on?" He took a deep breath. "It sounds like necromancy to me. I could summon the aurors."

"It won't stop me. It will hurt my chances, but it wouldn't stop me." Hermione sighed. "I wish you hadn't figured it out."

"I wish I'd never recommended you for the apprenticeship." He tossed back the last of his drink and set it on her desk.

"I knew what I was going to do before I left. I took the apprenticeship to get where I needed to be." Hermione rolled her lips inwards in a mockery of a smile. "I'm glad I did. I like the work. Curse breaking is fascinating, but it was always a means to an end."

"This could be your end. Call me selfish, but I don't want to lose anyone else." Bill snarled. "My pack is diminished enough."

"I understand that the full moon is tomorrow. You're cranky." Hermione licked her lips and stared up at him. "I have to do this. Trust me."

"Tomorrow night?" Bill closed his eyes. "A blue moon. I can't be there."

"It will be tricky enough without your interference." Hermione smiled and stepped out from around her desk. "I've taken care of letters if the whole thing goes badly."

"If it goes badly, I'll get you to the island." Bill growled. "There's no way I can talk you round?"

"My course is set." Hermione turned and dropped her dragon hide robes from her shoulders.

He swallowed at the vibrant glow of the tattoo through her shirt. He could see it moving and sparking against the fabric. There was a great deal of power stored in her, but he'd never seen someone before the attempt. The pale bodies of those that failed, he'd seen those.

She grabbed her black leather jacket and slung it on before turning to face him. He fought the urge to grab her and hold her against her will. He was fairly certain he'd lose the ensuing fight.

"I'll see you soon." Hermione patted his cheek and left him standing in her office. He heard her whistle as she made her way up to the main floor. It was too much. He plopped down onto her floor and let the tears come.

* * *

Hermione stood at the edge of the lake and stared at the bright reds and oranges of the sunset. The last hurdle was fast approaching. She dropped her jacket onto the sheet beneath her. All the things she needed had to remain on the sheet until she was done.

"I brought the pictures and the blanket like you asked." Andromeda approached slowly. "I don't think this is what my daughter meant when she asked you to make sure her son grew up with a good man in his life."

"I don't need to worry about that. Harry's alive and well. I know you think I've gone round the bend, but I knew this was my fate when I first read the book describing the ritual. I was fifteen." Hermione patted the older witch on the hand.

"Then go after Sirius." Andromeda twisted her fingers together. "He'd come back."

"I love Sirius, but I'm not sure I could hold this all together for him." Hermione shrugged. "I'm not sure why, but I know that I can for him."

"I'll be back an hour or two after dawn." Andromeda blinked a few times.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione set the blanket and the photographs down farthest from the water. She wanted them safe. There shouldn't be much splashing, but it was a possibility. Pushing down her innate curiosity proved more of a challenge, but she succeeded. She didn't invade his privacy by pawing through his few precious items. The magical energy he'd invested in their preservation was enough for her purposes.

She opened her bag and removed the materials she would need for the ritual. There were only minutes left. Each one would feel like hours, but magic, the glorious and powerful kind, was always dear.

She removed her clothing and placed it inside her bag. The cold, evening air raised goose flesh over her skin. Being naked outdoors was no longer novel, but there was a great deal of difference between dancing sky clad with Luna, and turning your body into a magical implement. She tossed the bag off the cotton sheet and took a deep breath. The earth moved even as she stood still upon it. Time and space disappeared into her knowledge of this moment. She felt the power arcing under her skin as the sun sank lower.

Kneeling, she picked up the soapstone mortar and pestle. It's was cold and black. She raised it above her head and waited for the magic to pulse. The warm thrum of her blood in her veins continued in its regular way. She fought the urge to rush. The magic would decide.

The sudden pulse of power inside her body sent the pestle spinning in the bowl of the mortar. She brought her arms down slowly. There was no going back now.

Hermione took another measured breath. The flow of air was precious. She let her hand slide along the surface of one of the lotus pods. The small circles that contained the seeds teased her fingertips. She gathered the three she had chosen and placed them in the mortar. She crushed the lotus pods and then added lemon balm in her mortar. The scent wafted up to her clean and fresh. She took another deep breath before adding the dust of three woods. Elder, holly, and oak joined pennyroyal and pomegranate in the thickening paste.

She took three deep breaths and glanced toward the sun. It was time. She picked up the bowl filled with dirt from his childhood home and the place where he had breathed his last. The blessings fell from her lips in an easy cadence. She pushed the paste into the dirt and opened the bottle of water. Holding the clear glass of the vessel above her head she let the sunlight flare and reflect from the water to the waiting ingredients.

Each step had to be perfect.

"I can't believe you're saving him." She ignored the familiar voice. "I would have come."

She didn't look toward the spirit. She'd known they would come. Some would distract while others tried to give aide. Non of it mattered. Sirius, even as a translucent wisp, was demanding. Giving him attention wasn't a good idea. She poured the water into the stone bowl and mixed the whole lot together with two fingers. She smiled when the mess became an indigo paint.

She started at her feet and drew the symbols on her skin with practiced precision. She felt the paint sinking into her skin and melding its powers into the magic brimming inside her. Each breath hurt as she moved up her legs.

"Come on, Hermione." Sirius' spirit called to her. "Don't you miss ol' Pads, kitten?"

"Leave her be." A woman's voice sounded from behind her. "She made the right choice."

"Since when is he the right choice?" Sirius sneered at the spirit behind her. "You didn't choose him."

Hermione caught sight of another spirit coalescing as she painted the symbol on her left hip. He looked like a younger, urbane version of Sirius.

"He is a true and loyal friend. Leave her be, Siri."

"He didn't save you, Regulus." Sirius grumbled.

"I wasn't his to save, was I?" Regulus Black examined his own hands.

"There is that." Another male spirit joined them. "He has things to do in the mortal plane."

She fought the urge to stare open mouthed at Harry's father. It was like being naked in front of Harry. She shook off that thought and resumed marking her skin with the paint.

"There's a lot of things I never got to do. It's not like I left the world with a wife and heir sitting at my bedside." Sirius grumbled.

"Siri, this isn't your time." The female spirit came over to the others and swung her long hair over her shoulder. "We are here to help her, or did you forget that?"

"I didn't forget." Sirius moved to the edge of the sheet directly in front of Hermione as she marked the skin of her stomach. "Are you sure, kitten?"

She wanted to talk to them. She wanted to sit down and spend the night storing memories for Harry, but there was no time. She saw other spirits beyond them. The misty forms of her audience hurried her movements.

"If you're wrong, if he won't come to you, you'll never join us. Your spirit will be gone." Sirius looked so lost. "Why him?"

She felt her legs begin to shake. The power of the magic thrummed through her again. The marks on her feet began to glow. Her hand shook as she brought the paint up to mark the flesh of her chest.

"You can do it." Tonks wafted up next to Sirius. Her hair was a glowing reflection of the sunset. "Keep going. Sirius is barkers. Just do it. You're doing the right thing."

Hermione fought back the urge to scream as the spells she was working on her skin began to interact. It was like a localized crucio as each symbol linked to the others. The spell work had to be perfect. The pain didn't matter. She pushed through it. If Bellatrix Lestange hadn't stopped her, this sure as hell would not.

She finished the paint on her face. It was no longer smooth and easy to manipulate. It felt grainy and thick on her skin. She winced as she turned to the water. The last rounded edge of the sun was about to sink below the horizon. She took a deep breath and headed for the water's edge.

Remus floated at the edge of the sheet. She looked up into his eyes and wanted to cry. If she failed, this was the last time she would see someone that loved her.

"You are the brightest witch of your age and several others." Remus grinned at her. "It will work. Trust in the magic."

She nodded and slid into the cold water. She wouldn't drown and she wouldn't freeze if she believed in the magic. She floated out into the water and let her body submerge slowly.

The magic rippled through her and she felt a weight settle on her back. His chin fitted against her shoulder his long arms trailed out past hers in the water. The wait of him forced her down further into the dark water. She wanted to breathe, but she could not. She wanted to struggle in the dark water, but she had to remain still.

Trust the magic. Trust that you will breathe again. She let the words slide through her brain. The dawn would come and they would rise from the water.

She smiled and let the magic pour from her into him. His life mattered. He was the one that had sacrificed for them. She had been the one curled in the dirt next to his corpse after the final battle.

She had believed it would be Harry. She'd never imagined doing this for Severus Snape, but she'd known as she stared into his empty eyes that the spell would only work for him. He had been destroyed in a war waged between two monstrous men, pieces of him had been strewn far and wide. She remembered the feeling of his hand as she cradled it in hers and the promise she made.


	3. Chapter 3

Severus wasn't sure when he realized he was in water. Well, it was fluid. He was hesitant to try and identify it. There were so many unpleasant possibilities. The fluid moved around him, and it moved him. His legs bumped against the soft flesh of another's. He seemed tethered to another body beneath him. Long tendrils of hair floated around his face blocking any ability to see his surroundings.

He didn't need to breathe. A good thing considering his location. He floated. Another damned soul in the river Styx, no doubt. He deserved it. Wanting to be alone, he tried to push away the body beneath him.

The body shifted, but he couldn't move away from it. Perhaps this was part of his punishment. There could be no sense of solitude and no freedom. He was settling into dark thoughts when the arm of his partner reached awkwardly up and caressed his face.

There was affection in the hand's gentle exploration. How was he supposed to respond? Did the being to which he was connected expect reciprocation?

He'd tried to push the body away, but, perhaps, he needed to find a way to bring it closer. He moved his arms down and wrapped them around the body beneath him. It was decidedly feminine. He slid his palms along her sides from the soft flesh under her breasts to the flare of her gently rounded hips and back again.

She had a nice form. He felt strangely possessive of her. Now that he had touched her, he wanted more. He wanted to cup her breasts in his hands, to feel her nipples press into his palms. He wanted to sink his teeth into the shoulder tucked beneath his chin.

Perhaps this was damnation in truth to be tied to temptation through all eternity, to never slake his desire. He wanted air around him. He wanted to take a deep breath and fill his lungs. The water nudged his body closer to hers. He felt the round curves of her derrière brush against him.

His body responded to the casual brushing of their flesh. Was it casual or was it some trick? Give into temptation and never reach the shore? Was there a shore? He'd never studied the death legends for all of his being a death eater. Was she some bit of peace in this odd world? Was he meant to couple with her?

There were times being a Gryffindor would be a relief. He wanted just once to be bold and to act without analyzing every detail. How very droll. In death, he longed to break free and live.

Her hand pulled his up and pressed his palm between her breasts. He could feel a heart beating slowly against his palm. His logical mind started toward another round of questions when something stopped it. His rational thoughts drifted away like the steam from a cauldron. All he could do was feel.

The glide of her skin under his fingers was entrancing. Her skin was not rubbery or waterlogged. He cupped her breasts and stroked her nipples with his thumbs. He could feel the ripples of tightened skin that formed her areola. Her body arched into his and he felt warmth bloom where her back settled against his chest.

Warmth had been lost to him, but he felt it now. It twisted through his body giving him new flexibility and power in his muscles. His cock hardened further and he felt it pressing against the flower of his partner's femininity.

The turn of phrase wrinkled his nose even as he enjoyed the image it created in his mind.

He shoved his legs down and felt thin, silty mud and pebbles under his feet.

His mind fired even as he slid his hands down to her hips. He felt his heart beat, felt his lungs burn, and felt his cock align against her. There was water. There was land. There was air. He dig his toes deep into the mud and thrust up, imp along his partner and screaming his triumph into the first light of dawn.

He heard her sputter as he pulled her up into the sun. The tattoo of some flower on her back flickered in the light. He registered all of this, but none of it was as stunning as the membrane he'd ruptured.

"Don't stop." She gasped. "You can't stop."

He blinked. Her long hair obscured her face, but there was something very familiar about her voice.

"So help me, if we fail this close to shore, just fuck me. Stop thinking." That voice pushed at him. "You have to do this and you have to get us to shore. I'm sorry, but if you want to live..."

He saw the length of cotton on shore. He could do this. Where ever he was, this was a chance.

He thrust into her again and took a step forward. The shallow water gave him better purchase and allowed her to help. She rammed back into him.

Gods, he wanted to stop and revel in her tight heat. He yanked her back against him. The slap of their skin and the splash of the water distracted him. How was he supposed to get them to shore?

"You can finish on land, but you have to do it before the sun breaks the horizon." She panted and managed to press up onto him. "Carry me."

He found himself awkwardly wading to shore with her impaled on him. Sex magic was never as sexy as it sounded. Awkward pauses and timing issues were the least of it, but this woman he could almost place seemed to know what was needed.

He pushed up onto the cotton fabric and pulled every bit of his flesh fee of the water. He collapsed against her back and pushed further into her. Gods, she was tight. He shuddered and pulled her hips up as he gained his knees. He closed his eyes and set a fast pace. He let his body work while his mind focused. Her small breathy moans and grunts were distracting, but he had to piece this puzzle together.

Her fingers fumbled at their joined flesh, and he heard her chanting in a language he didn't know. The mystery would wait. Being alive was enough.

He dragged a wonderful breath deep into his lungs. With each snap of his hips, he felt more real, more present in the world. He reached out and pressed his hand to the center of her tattoo. Blue leaves emerged and wrapped around his fingers, holding him tight.

Energy flooded into him through the connection. Something warmer than the sunlight pushed up into his body and took root. Life flowed into him. He felt it settling into his cells, renewing him.

"Oh, goodness." The woman shuddered and he felt her body contract around him. He lost his steady rhythm and roared as his body broke into bliss.

A blue light flared around them. He felt warmed and welcomed. The magical light faded and he looked to the horizon to see the sun fully risen.

He slid down to the sheet, pulling the witch to his chest and holding her close. Gratitude filled him. This remarkable being had pulled him back to the living.

"Welcome back, Professor." She whispered, and he knew her.

He was flooded with images of the girl she had been. His stomach roiled, and he pulled free of her. He saw her flinch and felt a flash of guilt.

"What have you done, Miss Granger?"

She turned over, and he saw the scars decorating her body. This was not the school girl he remembered. She was older and settled into herself.

"Disturbed the natural order of things." She blushed lightly as he examined her, but she made no effort to hide her body from his perusal. "You gave everything to see us safe, to help us win. You deserved a second chance."

"Dark magic? I never imagined you would turn into a necromancer." Severus sneered at her.

"Not every resurrection spell is dark." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Any spell that pulls a life from beyond forges a bond between the castor and the victim. What am I supposed to do while I stand in your service?" He crossed his arms over his chest.

"I didn't want you forced or controlled." Miss Granger sighed. "It took some work, but I came up with a solution."

She opened her hand to reveal a small river rock with a natural hole in it. He could see runes etched into the surface.

"A bit of rock will free me from your service?" He raised one brow.

"I'm not your student anymore." She conjured a cord and made a necklace of the stone. "I'm a curse breaker, and I know what I'm doing. The stone will allow you to walk free. I didn't bring you back to serve me. I did it because you deserve a chance."

She grabbed his hand and shoved the stone into it. He watched the runes light as it came in contact with his flesh. When they faded, she pulled her hands away from him.

"Are there any caveats?" Severus rubbed the stone with his fingers.

"Don't lose it." She stood and winced as her flesh shifted. "I can not make another. Your dark Mark is gone. Your debts are cleared. I arranged for your vault to be preserved, so you've money. All you have to do is live as you see fit."

"It's that simple?" He watched her grab a bag from the grass next to the sheet. Her body was toned but still feminine. The image of the hand waving girl was gone. This was a witch in her prime.

"It is." She pulled out a bundle of clothes and handed them to him. "Andromeda Tonks will be here in a few minutes. She said an hour or two after dawn."

"That gives us at best forty five minutes." Severus sighed. "Why did you involve her?"

"She was your friend, and I needed her to get your things from Malfoy Manor. I didn't look at them. I needed something bearing your magical signature. Draco might have helped, but Andromeda was willing." Hermione smiled wryly. "I thought you might appreciate the aid of a fellow Slytherin over a hoard of Weasleys. The clothes are muggle. I can adjust them for you if I got the sizes wrong. I'm not sure what happened to your wand. I'm sorry."

"I think you have done quite enough. You need not apologize to me." He watched her dress in jeans and a long sleeved shirt before scrambling into his own similar clothes. He slipped the necklace over his head and tucked it under his shirt, enjoying the warmth of it against his skin.

"I need to clean this up." Hermione flicked her fingers and his things floated to him. He clutched the blanket and the pictures to his chest.

He stepped off the sheet and felt the grass beneath his feet. It was damp with dew. He took a deep breath and watched as the witch pulverized her tools to dust and burned the sheet in a quick blast of blue flame. She was thorough and precise. When nothing was left but ash and dust she scattered it on the winds.

"Do you want me to stay?" She smiled up at him. "Just until Andromeda gets here. I'm not trying to crowd you."

He wanted her to stay, of course he wanted her to stay, but he couldn't form the words. She was standing there with sunlight pulling gold and copper highlights from her wild hair. She looked more goddess than human.

"I forgot your shoes." She shook her head and set her curls dancing. "I'm sorry."

She reached deeply into her bag and held out a pair of dragon hide boots with socks sticking out of one. He frowned and tried to figure out how to keep his things dry.

She flicked her wand and there was a table and two chairs next to him. He fought the urge to smile. She was one step ahead. Always.

"I've got some tea in a thermos and some light options." She reached into her bag once more pulling out various items and setting them on the table. "Heavy food sounded like a poor choice after a rebirth."

He nodded and put his bundle down. He didn't want to put on his boots yet, but he set them beside the closest chair for later.

There weren't words for the gift she had given him. How was he supposed to thank her?

Andromeda apparated in with a sharp crack. She was early. He looked at the woman and raised a brow. It was fun to watch her glower back.

He turned back toward Hermione, but she was gone.

"She's gone to reassure Bill Weasley." Andromeda sat in the chair across the table. "He figured out what she was doing recently. He was less than happy with her taking such a risk."

He nodded. Andromeda had always loved to prattle on. It had seemed an odd behavior for a housemate in his school days, but it was a comfort now. He let her words wash over him as he sat.

Alive and whole and free.

Merlin, the whole world was out there waiting to be explored.


	4. Chapter 4

Hernán Aiza stared at his former apprentice and took in his stifled and stark appearance. The black clothing was bad enough, but did he think buttons were a special ward against evil? In the hot sun, he looked pathetic. One look in his eyes told more of the story than Hernán wanted to know. The boy had been brilliant, but at war with himself. The man looked to have lost.

"I'd heard you were dead." Hernán frowned and stepped back to allow his former apprentice room to enter.

"I was." Severus frowned and took a deep breath. "It's not always a permanent condition apparently."

"Dark arts?" He quirked a brow at the younger man.

"Brash Gryffindor with more bravery than sense." Severus sighed. "She was always talented, but it never occurred to me that she would do this to me."

"To you or for you?" Hernán patted the man's shoulder.

"I'm afraid that is a question for which I have no answer." Severus slumped into a chair. "I burned my childhood home to the ground. I went to get a few things and, then, I didn't even go inside."

"A new life with a clean start." The old master nodded. "Sometimes a cauldron must be melted down and sent to the smith."

"Yes, let us talk in metaphor and mysticism." Severus snorted.

"You never valued my metaphors as you should." Hernán chuckled wryly. "You placed yourself between two madmen and nearly wasted all the time I took training you. This brash Gryffindor of yours has given you a chance. Don't be a fool."

"I think I prefer the metaphors." Severus leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. "I don't know what to do."

"Then let us go to the laboratory and lose ourselves in the work for a while." Hernán waved his hand towards the back of the house. "Things always seem simpler over a cauldron, do they not?"

They brewed in silence, each content with the others abilities. Hernán smiled as the robes and frock coat were discarded. The man was graceful and confident around a cauldron. He needed to find that in the broader world.

"I read that Ivanov is trying to use ground dragon teeth instead of the shavings of hippogriff talon in a dragon pox remedy." Hernán shook his head.

"A fool and his cauldron are soon melded." Severus sighed. "And both are useless afterwards."

"We should go upstairs before my lovely butterfly decides it is time for a hurricane." Hernán finished bottling his potion. "Put that slop of yours under stasis or she'll drag you out of here by your ears."

The two masters bickered as they mounted the stairs. It was good natured, and Hernán smiled as Severus relaxed. He was still wearing far too many buttons.

"I think I need to go see her." Severus frowned and looked back toward the laboratory. "I don't understand why she would choose to save me."

"A man needs answers." Hernán grinned. "But a woman needs mysteries. My wife loves her gardens and all their secrets, but she didn't last a year as my apprentice."

They both heard a snort from the back of the house.

"I think your butterfly might be pushing on into that storm." Severus smirked.

"And I think you were a fool to leave England without answers." Hernán shrugged his shoulders, but we were all young and foolish once."

He passed by a framed photograph of himself as a young man in the old apothecary his father had owned. Severus stared at it for a moment. He'd always wanted that. A sense of continuity and comfort lived in this house with the people it protected.

"You are both fools." Mariposa Aiza waved her hands at them. Forcing them to find places at the table or face her wrath. "All that time spent in the laboratory warps your minds. Those fumes and the ripping apart of things to suit your purposes aren't good for a body."

"What would you suggest, my dear?" Hernán smiled at his wife and took a sip of his wine. "What do your plants teach you?"

"More than I learned scouring cauldrons for you." She tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder. "The girl gave Severus his freedom. He should use it."

"For what?" Severus set his fork down and stared at her.

"Does the concept of freedom elude you?" She rolled her eyes. "You are the only one that can determine your path."

"Those monsters ordered you about. They never let you become the man you were meant to be." Mariposa shook her head. "This girl, as you call her, was mature enough to set you free. Don't insult her gift."

* * *

"That girl should find a good wizard and have a family." Molly Weasley watched Hermione frolic with the various offspring of the Order members. "She'd make a wonderful mother if she would just settle down."

"She's Teddy's favorite auntie." Andromeda smiled as her grandson sprang toward the witch only to catch air as she levitated out of his reach.

"If she doesn't settle down soon, no one will be interested." Molly sighed. "I had hoped she'd find a place with one of my boys, but she's always off gallivanting about."

"She is one of the best curse breakers in the world." Andromeda patted Molly's hand. "That kind of talent doesn't take well to sitting at home."

"My Bill stays home now." Molly frowned. "He doesn't have some odd wanderlust always pulling him away."

"I'm also older." Bill smirked as both women turned toward him with wide eyes. It wouldn't do to admit that Hermione was the better curse breaker. "Hermione spent her childhood at war, Mum. Let her do what she wants now."

"Look out there and tell me she doesn't want children." Molly pointed out to the garden where Hermione was levitating Teddy up to one of the apple trees to snag a couple of bright red ones.

Andromeda left the bickering pair and headed out toward the pond. There was no doubt Ron would be pestering Hermione again soon. Molly would push the boy until he drove Hermione spare.

It would make no difference. Hermione didn't date. She didn't flirt. She made no promises she couldn't keep, and a future with happy families was a promise she could never make.

It had taken an excellent bottle of elf wine to pry the girl's secrets loose, and she frequently wished she hadn't.

* * *

 **Author's Note** \- The Aiza family is of my own invention. I will post the pictures that inspired them on Tumblr. Thanks so much for all the kind words and encouragement. It means far more than I can express.


	5. Chapter 5

Severus sat in the garden. The late afternoon sunwas casting long shadows, but he was sitting in a warm spot of sunlight.

The cool sweetness of the sangria in his glass was perfect.

"You've had six months, Severus." Mariposa perched on a chair next to her climbing roses. Her hair was braided and full of flowers. She looked much younger than her fifty two years.

"Am I on a schedule?" Severus raised one brow and stared at her.

"Tell me about your lady." She transfigured a glass from a mint leaf and summoned the pitcher from the table.

"You know about Lily." Severus frowned and looked down at the old stones of the terrace floor.

"Lily was never more than a friend and not much of one at that." Mariposa shook her head slightly. "I want to hear about the Gryffindor."

"She's not my lady." Severus took another long drink and considered the Hermione Granger he had known. "I knew a child. The woman remains a mystery."

"From the seed grows the plant." She shrugged her shoulder and sat back.

Severus sighed. He had learned more about making people talk from this woman than he cared to admit. It would be easier to give in to her demands, but he didn't want to drag his emotional baggage out for her amusement.

"Hermione Granger." He examined a rose.

"I had already determined that." Mariposa waved her hand at him. "You stare at any pictures of her in the newspaper for far too long."

"I can remember the girl at her sorting. She was all hope and bravery. I had no idea of the intellect she was hiding under all that wild hair." Severus sat back and closed his eyes. "She brewed polyjuice in a bathroom during her second year. I know she stole the supplies from me, but I've never figured out how."

"An impressive feat. Why isn't she a potions mistress?" She took a sip from her glass, but her eyes were filled with mirth.

"I couldn't treat her the way I wanted. I had a role to play. If she'd been in any other house and friends with anyone else..." He took a deep breath. "She had to hate me."

"Hate didn't motivate her to save you." Mariposa looked at her roses. "Perhaps she was motivated by a school girl's crush."

"Not likely." Severus shook his head. "I made a point of humiliating her. We did not have a positive relationship. She respected me at best."

"Neville Longbottom was my last apprentice. Did you know?" Mariposa grinned. "He drove Hernán to drink, but he has a way with plants. He talked about you. Talked about how horrible you had seemed and how tragic it was that you died alone."

"She didn't pull me back for pity's sake." Severus examined a thorn on one of the climbing vines. "I'm sure she had a logical reason at least by Gryffindor standards."

"You knew the girl." Mariposa shrugged one shoulder the tiniest fraction.

"She freed me." Severus traced the petal of one of the red roses.

"She pulled you back. She gave you freedom. You've healed your body." His mentor's wife cocked head and examined him. "Your magic is true and powerful. Hernán complains of your brilliance every night. As a wizard, you are to be respected, but I think the man has been neglected."

"The wizard and the man are the same."

Severus took a deep breath. Hernán's wife spent most of her time thinking well outside the box, but it wouldn't serve him to annoy her.

"In most cases that is true." She pursed her lips and looked him over carefully. "It is not so for you. You are a powerful wizard, but, as a man, you are stunted."

"How kind of you to say so." Severus raised his glass in a mocking salute.

"You will always have a home here. You are the son I wanted to give to Hernán." She leaned forward and patted his knee. "We love you, but keeping you with us would be greedy. You deserve a chance to explore this world and your place in it. Between the Aiza properties and the Prince estates, you are free to travel anywhere. You should. Your dreary England is still being set right. Go. Explore."

"She's right." Hernán leaned against the door jamb with a wide grin. "She always is."

Severus looked at the ancient stone walls that protected the garden. He knew there was more than death and suffering in the world. He knew there was great beauty.

He blinked away the sudden flash of her skin in the early dawn's light. Those memories were best let alone. Perhaps he needed new ones.

"I think it might be time for an excursion." He finished his drink and smiled.

* * *

Hermione frowned and tossed a few coins on the table to cover the cost of her beer. She'd come in to town to gather the owl post and wished she'd given it a pass. The warning had come too late and there was nothing to be done. Harry and Ron were already on their way.

Their friendly visits never worked. Harry would wax poetic about the joys of a regular bed, and Ron would probably wind up on bended knee again. The inevitable drunken boorishness that followed her rejection of his proposal usually stirred up the camp. The fact that Malfoy was here with her would only make the bad worse.

She took a deep breath and held it for a moment before releasing it. There was a power in the control of her breath. She continued measuring each breath as she hiked toward camp. Drawing in the good and expelling the bad, she made good time.

It wasn't much, nine tents on raised platforms. In the deepest, darkest Peru, there were no marmalade eating bears, but there were many things with which she didn't care to share her tent. Even the best wards wouldn't keep them all out.

She knew her lifestyle puzzled most of her friends, but settling down wasn't an option. Molly's constant match making made the time she did spend at home awkward. Ron believed his mother. He was absolutely convinced that they belonged together despite all evidence to the contrary.

"You're back sooner than expected." Draco frowned up at her from his seat by the communal fire. "I thought you were going to enjoy a day of civilization."

"That was the plan, but Harry and Ron are headed this way." She collapsed next to him. "So, I grabbed our supplies and headed back. They won't like your being here."

"You didn't tell them?" Draco grinned. "I thought having no secrets was part of your Gryffindor code."

"Can we leave Hogwarts out of this?" Hermione rolled her eyes. "Try not to be a total arse, and let me handle the fall out."

"My father will enjoy this week's report." Draco grinned. "The cursed tombs have been opened and preserved for the muggle archaeologists and all the magical items are being catalogued and packed for the Peruvian ministry. Oh, and your curse breaker was visited by her famous compatriots and it turned into a hex fest."

"Are you worried?" Hermione grinned and bumped her shoulder into his. "I'll keep you safe. I always win."

* * *

Ron hated the weird smells and the humidity, but his mother said he needed to pursue Hermione to win her. So, he was tramping around in a dense forest with some animagus guide that randomly changed into a bear and climbed trees to get his bearing. Harry has bailed on him and booked a room in a nice hotel. He'd blathered on about sending a patronus and not bothering her at work, but how was that supposed to work? She'd pop in for an hour or two and then head back up to her weird tent. Hadn't they had enough camping?

"The camp is up ahead just passed these trees." The guide smiled and held the branches aside.

Ron hurried through the opening and froze. There she was. His girl was perched on a log next to a man with a very familiar color of blonde hair. He felt the vein in his temple throb.

"Is this why you say no all the time?" Ron clenched his fist around his wand. "You're Malfoy's dirty little secret?"

Hermione and Malfoy both turned to face him. A huge smile spread across the ferret's face, and the blond bastard put his free hand on her shoulder. It was obvious they were sleeping together. She'd probably been running off on these expeditions just to carry on with Malfoy away from the press.

"Ronald, be sensible." Hermione shook her head. "Draco is here representing his father's company. They financed this expedition and have a vested interest in its success."

"So, you're a whore?" Ronald knew his face was purpling. He could feel it. "You fuck him for funding? Do you roll around with Lucius as well?"

"My father would hex me to ashes if I even considered doing what you are accusing us of doing." Draco shook his head. "She's the best curse breaker around. She's to valuable to hurt."

"I didn't know you cared, Malfoy." Hermione smirked.

She turned toward Malfoy with that happy teasing grin and Ron felt the last tether of his control go. The slicing hex whispered from his lips as he pointed his wand at Malfoy. The bastard wouldn't be so damn pretty now. The light shot from his wand. His aim was true, but Hermione stepped into the path.

The slicing hex cut her shirt and skin. Ron saw the shirt begin to fall open before Hermione's hand snapped up to secure it in place.

Draco Malfoy caught her in his arms.

Somehow the ferret looked like a hero.

"Merlin, Mione, I'm sorry." Ron moved toward the pair. Malfoy glared up at him as he settled Hermione on the ground.

"Accio med kit. She's unconscious, you imbecile." Draco held out his hand and caught the box. Ron watched as the blond man worked with quick and determined motions. The cut ran along her side from her armpit to her hip. The edge of a large tattoo was visible, but he couldn't see more because Malfoy was blocking his view.

"Is she going to be okay?" Ron flinched at the glare Malfoy leveled on him.

"She will be fine. No thanks to you." Draco poured dittany along the wound and wiped the blood away from the surrounding skin.

"When did she get that tattoo?" Ron wrinkled his nose. "Why would she put a blue flower on her back?"

"Curse breakers use jewelry, tattoos, and runes embroidered into their clothing to protect them." Draco pulled the remnants of her shirt over the marking. "It would be best if you left before she comes around."

Ron watched sadly as Malfoy scooped Hermione up and carried her into a tent.


	6. Chapter 6

Lucius Malfoy had wondered if she would come. The manor held no happy memories for her, but one should never deign to understand the mind of a lion or lioness to be more exacting. As a group they were fairly predictable, but as individuals they were worshippers of chaos.

She stood at the window, looking out on the front lawn. Her dress was made sheer by the unusually bright sunlight flooding the room. He paused and admired the casual beauty of the moment before clearing his throat.

"The elf told me to wait." She turned and he saw the perfect awareness of her situation there in her eyes. "I hope you aren't displeased, Lord Malfoy."

"Only that I was unavoidably detained, Miss Granger." He inclined his head and closed the doors behind him. "I hope it was only a small inconvenience."

"It was no inconvenience." She waved her hand and turned her head to glance out the window again. Apparently, this lioness liked to play. "The scenery is quite pleasing."

"It is. I quite enjoy the aspect that window provides." Lucius allowed a slight quirk of his lips. She turned back to him and smiled. It was warm and genuine. She was utterly terrifying.

"I'm not here to discuss the funding of my next expedition." She retreated from the window and stalked through the room. "Am I?"

"I have concerns." Lucius indicated a chair for her to sit in and moved to sit behind his desk.

"Let me put your fears to rest. I am not after Draco. I am not involved with Draco. I will never be involved with him despite what a certain reporter might see fit to print." She glanced at the chair and stood tall. "I hope you enjoyed the show. It's the last one to which you will be privy."

"I'm not concerned about the seduction of my son. I would have preferred you to the bit of frippery he has chosen, but you are already off the market. More's the pity." Lucius gestured toward the chair again. "Shall we try this again?"

He watched her settle before taking his own seat. Her posture was perfect. She folded her hands in her lap and crossed her legs at the ankles, a perfect lady.

"You know." She looked at him carefully. "You've known all along. That's why you funded my expeditions."

"You have a quick mind." He leaned back against his chair.

"That's an evasion not a confirmation." She frowned. "I am not here to play games."

"Severus told me you had saved him. He did not say how." Lucius shook his head. "How is he off, finding himself?"

"Is that any of your business?" She closed her eyes for a moment. "Why do you care?"

"Most methods for raising the dead are dark arts at best and necromancy at worst. I had to protect Severus from any repercussions." Lucius frowned at her understanding nod. Where was her indignation? Lucius straightened his blotter. "The spell you used is the only one that isn't linked to darkness."

"I'm well aware of all of the ramifications of the spell." She sighed. "I didn't go into this without doing the proper research."

"Draco assured me that you are always very thorough in your work, but bringing someone back from the beyond is an act of emotion. It is a driven thing." Lucius tilted his head. "What drove you?"

"I don't owe you an explanation." She crossed her arms over her breasts. Perhaps if he was a bit more open with her, he could get her talking.

"You don't owe me a thing." Lucius took a deep breath. "My family owes you a great deal in point of fact. Several times over. Severus is my best friend. He protected my son despite the danger. I need to know that he is safe. You are in a unique position to hurt him."

"I freed him of the bond. I used a Norse ritual to give him the the freedom. I carry the burden. It was my magic and my responsibility." The young with blushed beautifully and dropped her gaze to her lap. "If you tell him, he'll feel obligated to come back and help me. Please, let him be free."

"You bound yourself to him and took the burden of his bond as well?" Lucius blinked. The strength of this witch shouldn't surprise him, but to give up so much with no return... He couldn't imagine it.

"He doesn't need to know." She leaned forward and stared at him. There was something tragic in her choices. "He gave up twenty years and his life. Let him be free."

"I have no desire to harm him." Lucius paused. This young woman confused him. Her motivation was obscured and complicated. His grandfather had married a Gryffindor when his wife died in childbirth. She hadn't lasted long, but in his journal he had bemoaned her obsessive need for honesty. "I am far more worried that you will."

He saw the indignation flare in her eyes. She straightened her spine and leveled a glare at him that would flay his skin from his body if she had the intention. He fought the urge to smile at this sweet lioness. She was a war veteran and probably quite capable of fighting him.

"You have combined the ancient magic of two very different societies." Lucius frowned and took a deep breath. "Are you quite sure that there will be no adverse repercussions?"

"There's a stone. I made it into a necklace. He has to keep the stone on, but he's compelled to by the spell. As long as he has the stone, he's free of the bindings." She blushed again. He sighed. She was truly a comely witch.

"But, you are not?" Lucius watched the blush intensify. "You can't marry anyone, can't have children, can't even be intimate with another."

"I am aware." She looked down at her hands and sighed. "I will live an intellectual life."

"He's free to do as he pleases." Lucius steepled his fingers and pressed his lips against them.

"It's the right thing." The witch met his gaze once more. "You don't need to send Draco to mind me at work."

"After the incident in Peru, he has been most insistent." Lucius smiled. "He has no fondness for the other members of the golden trio. I believe he has come to view you as a friend."

"He's a good man." Hermione shrugged. "He can still drive me mental with no effort at all, but I enjoy his company."

"You planned this next adventure to coincide with his wedding." He didn't need to see her squirm, but it was amusing.

"The rumors Ron started were unfortunate. I didn't want to embarrass Draco or Astoria with the gossip mongers' speculations." She straightened her skirt primly.

"Let us enjoy their slings and arrows. Come to the engagement ball. Narcissa would love to take you shopping. I believe her sister will be along for the hunt. Gowns are apparently very elusive prey." Lucius chuckled. "I will insist on a waltz as will Draco."

The witch blinked rapidly. He enjoyed watching her reactions. She was so very open.

"Won't Severus be there?" She bit her lower lip.

"He will attend the wedding, but he is in Amsterdam working on some obscure potion with another master and unable to travel for something as frivolous as a mere ball."

"I'd be happy to attend in that case." She stood. Choosing to end their interview on her own terms, most likely. "Lady Malfoy doesn't have to take me shopping. I would hate to intrude on the time she spends with Andromeda."

"I will pass on your misgivings and allow my wife the pleasure of disabusing you of them." Lucius stood and walked around his desk. "She isn't likely to take no for an answer."

"Thank you for keeping my secrets." She held out her hand in the muggle way. She was adorable. He took her hand and turned it before bowing over her delicate fingers.

He straightened and observed that delicious pinkening of her cheeks. Pulling her hand free of his, she was gone in a swirl of skirts and the quiet click of the door.

He stood still for a few moments. She smelled of exotic spices and sunlight, and those blushes... He took a deep breath.

"Are you satisfied?" Draco pushed the door open. "I told you she was no threat to Uncle Sev."

"She is enchanting and has no bad intentions. I imagine she will eventually prove quite a threat to my old friend's equilibrium." Lucius smiled at his son. "It's a shame that she bound herself to Severus. She'd have made a delightful wife for you."

"Astoria suits me." Draco shook his head. "She wants the things I want. Granger would be far and away too much work."


	7. Chapter 7

Severus dipped low on his broom and skimmed the water of the canal with his fingertips. He enjoyed the sensation of the cool water sliding around his fingers. The wake trailed behind him and disappeared. Ephemeral. He lifted up into the night sky with a chuckle. Life was good.

He was almost home. He could see the unique architecture of the Prince property in the distance. It felt odd to think of the building as home. It was really more of a place to rest his head.

What had possessed his ancestors to build a seven story town home and charm it a deep green with white detailing was beyond him. Most of the place was in need of serious restoration. The tiered windows rose in groups of five for five stories before the house narrowed. The view from the street next to the canal was intimidating, but he had no use for such a place. There was no one he needed to impress. The potions laboratory in the basement was now perfect and the elves had remodeled the top floor into an apartment to suit his needs. The ancient formal rooms and ball room could continue mouldering.

He took a wide loop around the ornate decoration that crowned his house and landed on his rooftop terrace. He smoothed his shirt but made no effort to tuck it into his jeans. After years in formal robes, he loved muggle clothing. He set his broom beside the door and looked around his mostly white apartment.

The three elves he'd found more or less abandoned here had been thrilled to tackle the renovation. He had considered freeing them, but they did not want to be free. They wanted to work.

There was freedom in work. He understood that. He was rediscovering his passion for potions, and they apparently enjoyed having a wizard about.

Frenna van der Bijl was a potions' mistress on a mission, and an alluring with her was exhilarating. She was skilled and precise. Her blonde hair and blue eyes reminded him of exactly no one. Being around her was both exciting and a relief. She was smart enough to keep up with him and her heart was elsewhere despite her enticements.

His eyes slid over his bed. It was large and lovely and lonely. Frenna offered a cure for the last. Her subtle invitations were flattering. He wasn't used to being pursued by women or propositioned. He closed his eyes and pushed away the carnal thoughts.

There would be time for that later.

He stepped out of his shoes and moved toward the kitchen space.

"There is a dinner if you wants." Breton popped in next to him and flapped his ears. "Poppy gets the owl post for you, Master."

"I'll eat in the kitchen." Severus smiled at his head elf. "Thank you for keeping my meal warm."

The elf flapped his ears again and blushed before disappearing with the faintest of pops.

It felt incredibly good to do what he wanted without a care to what others might think. He could be kind. He didn't have to worry about his roll or other people's opinions.

The post was piled on the table next to his food. The elves were good at being unobtrusive. He rarely saw Pippy and Poppy. They were subtle and stealthy.

Hermione Granger was not. The small package on the table was tied with a blue ribbon. He wondered why she kept sending him things. The rare Peruvian trumpet flowers had been harvested perfectly and sent with stamen intact. There had been the Canadian Lobalug venom, the rarest and strongest of its kind. Each gift was perfectly packaged. Once a month something arrived, always with the blue ribbon and no note. Each item was dear, and he felt a certain guilt in accepting the gifts. His life was surely gift enough, but returning them seemed churlish.

He shoved the missives away without glancing at them. The crisp white paper on the package was pristine. The blue ribbon was tied with precision. He admired the perfectly matched loops. He wanted to rip into the package like a young child at Yuletide, but her gifts tended to be exotic. It was best not to upset them. He removed the ribbon and set it gently to the side. The white paper was thick and charmed with multiple protections. He pulled it away to reveal a book and a wooden box of similar size. The blue leather cover was tooled with waves that shifted under his fingers. It was a piece of art. Marinus Scamander's works were very hard to find, but _Seohls, Selkies, and Roanes of the Northern Seas_ was the rarest of rare. The book tended to dry out and fall to pieces if not properly looked after. This one was in perfect condition. Where in the world had she found it?

The box had runic protections carved into it. He examined it carefully before flipping the latch open.

Four glass vials were carefully cushioned on the dark green velvet lining, but it was her writing on the enclosed note that drew his eye. He looked at her precise penmanship and felt a warmth bloom inside him. He traced the letters of his own name with his finger.

Master Snape.

She'd taken no liberties.

The letter explained the contents of each vial and assured that they had been donated willingly. The box was charmed so that the ingredients could not be used to bring harm in any way. It was a complicated bit of spell work, and he admired it.

The vials were filled with ground selkie tusk, carded selkie fur, and both male and female selkie blood. It was a treasure trove and the answer to their potion's issues.

He left his food and the other post on the table and headed for the door.

* * *

Hermione flinched when Narcissa cast a slight stinging hex at her. Shopping with the Black sisters had been a unique and terrifying experience, and it should have come with a warning. As horrifying as being forced to try on fifty black gowns and their accompanying robes had been, this was worse. The pair did not allow her anything but perfect posture.

"Do not fidget." Narcissa smiled. "You are a lovely woman. Be confident. Be serene."

"Be insane." Hermione whispered to herself when Narcissa was distracted by Draco.

"I'd do it, dear." Andromeda smirked. "Our mother had a whole assortment of spells with which she trained us. Narcissa has never had anyone to use them on."

"She has Astoria." Hermione gestured to the young woman standing next to Draco.

"Astoria was trained for this from infancy." Andromeda patted her shoulder. "You are now my sister's little duckling. Don't struggle. She's like devil's snare."

"I didn't know saving Severus would make me an honorary Malfoy." Hermione fought the urge to frown. Frowning had earned her an oddly warm elbow a few moments ago.

"All the complications of a marriage with none of the fun." Andromeda guided them into the room with a sweeping stride that gave the illusion of floating. "I did warn you. You never know what all the consequences of great magic will be. Welcome to the family."

Hermione felt her lips twist into an appropriate smile. Narcissa returned her expression from her place beside Draco with a decided twinkle in her eye. Hermione tilted her head and caught Lucius' amused smirk. Wonderful. He was enjoying this far too much.

Hermione enjoyed watching the gathered cream of magical society stiffen as Draco seated her at the family table.

"The speculation in tomorrow's Prophet should be delightful." Astoria winked at her. "Do you think they'll try a scandalous triad or a secret love child?"

"Both." Draco smirked as he took his seat between them. "An incestuous, love triangle."

"They'll probably trot out that mess with Ron again." Hermione shook her head.

"Draco looked so manly in those pictures." Astoria giggled.

"Yes, landing on my arse in the middle of Diagon Alley with an irate, gibbering orangutan standing over me certainly enhanced my masculinity." Draco shook his head. "And don't apologize for the git again. He's made that scene based on assumptions."

"He's not a complete dolt most of the time." Hermione sighed. "His mother encouraged him in his pursuit of me. He's the only one of her children that takes her word as absolute truth every time."

"I don't care to spend the evening trying to understand the workings of that young man's mind." Narcissa arched one delicate brow. Hermione froze. There was bound to be some discomfort headed her way.

"So, you're off to the Himalayas soon?" Astoria's lips twitched as she locked eyes with Hermione.

"Yes, it should prove quite challenging." Hermione smiled. "I got clearance to travel with my hippogriff today."

Draco frowned and rubbed his arm.

The rest of the meal passed in a haze of happy banter and good wine. They laughed and when the dancing started she enjoyed it. Narcissa had clearly set up an acceptable group of gentlemen to partner her. It was easy to just relax and be in the moment. Draco approached her when his father absconded with Astoria.

"We should dance like we did in that little dive in Argentina." Draco took her in a very proper hold and set about waltzing. "The tongues would wag."

"Your mother would hex me silly." Hermione shook her head. "I don't see how you can choose to live your life in this fishbowl. One night every so often isn't so bad, but I'd go mad if I had to do this regularly."

"I thought you were already mad." Draco smirked.

She was about to reply when the first wave of nausea hit. She stumbled. A sharp electric pain shot down her arms and the room blurred as her eyes filled with tears. She could hear Draco talking, but she couldn't distinguish his words. The world shifted on its axis and she shuddered as the nausea tightened into a burning sensation low in her gut.

The second wave of nausea freed the fire and she burned. Time ceased. She struggled for each breath.

When the pain receded, she heard Andromeda and Narcissa in the distance. Their murmurs were comforting. A cool cloth was pressed to her head. Where in hell was she?

"There is nothing to be done." Lucius' voice was close and his words were clear. "Go back to the festivities with Draco and Astoria. I'll take the first watch."

He stroked her face with the towel and she felt the hot tears leaking from her eyes.

"I'm sorry." She choked the words out and forced open her eyes. "There are bound to be new rumors now."

"Gossip is a fact of life." Lucius shrugged. "Is the pain passing?"

She managed a nod.

"I suppose Severus is enjoying his freedom." Lucius observed.

"It would seem so." Hermione tilted her head up and looked at the frescoes gracing the ceiling above her.

"Is keeping your secret worth this?" Lucius wiped at her still trickling tears.

"He's free." Hermione forced a smile. "It's enough."

* * *

Severus smiled at Frenna as she lolled in her bed. Her blonde hair was mussed and her lips were swollen. She looked well shagged. He smirked and yanked up his jeans.

"You're on your way soon?" She rolled over revealing the perfect, pale skin of her back.

"We solved the problem with the potion and we celebrated." Severus shrugged into his shirt. "Amsterdam is lovely, but I never planned to stay."

"You could give it a chance. We could spend some time in other pursuits." She sat up and stroked the pale flesh of his chest, stopping him from buttoning his shirt up. "Potions during the day, passions at night."

"I'm not ready for a commitment." He cupped her chin. "Neither are you, Frenna. You enjoy your work, but not like this. You're fighting for someone, and I am a possessive man."

"You know." She blushed.

"That you have a roane for a lover?" Severus smiled at her. "Yes."

"He might not come back to me. It's been years." Frenna grabbed the sheets and pulled them up over her nakedness. "That damn chemical spill forced him to live only in the water."

"Roane behavior is not my specialty, but, if your lover has any sense, he will return to you." Severus slid his thumb along her cheek. "This was wonderful."

"But you are enjoying your freedom, and I am afraid of mine." She smiled and he pulled his hand away from her.

"He will come back to you." Severus let his eyes slide over her partially concealed body. "If he has a lick of sense."

"What of you?" She sat back against the pillows.

"I'm free." Severus winked at her. "It's enough."


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione knew her Slytherins were trying to figure some way to wiggle around their promises to her. She wasn't fool enough to think they would let the incident pass. She rolled her eyes at the familiar knock at the door. The elf Narcissa had insisted on sending home with her answered the door for her young master and led him into the sitting room.

"The Prophet has you pregnant with my love child." Draco smirked and held up the paper. "Astoria clipped it for album."

"So, not a secret triad then?" Hermione giggled. "Perhaps I should kiss Astoria on the lips when we go for ice cream later."

"Only if you're sure there's a reporter taking lots of pictures." Draco nodded his head and smiled that silly, mischievous smile that always meant trouble. "Lots and lots of pictures."

"Pervert." Hermione tossed a throw pillow at him as he settled into a club chair.

"I thought you'd be proud of me." Draco hugged the pillow to his chest. "I'm willing to share. That's real progress, that is."

"I'll let Astoria know." Hermione smirked and settled back onto the couch.

"Just so you know, Mum has ordered my father to fix it." Draco took a deep breath. "I think she spent the better part of the morning looking for ways to punish Severus."

"It's not his fault." Hermione growled. "He doesn't know. He shouldn't be punished. I wanted him to be free."

"Did you know?" Draco leaned forward. "Did you know it would hurt like that?"

"I don't care about the pain." Hermione stood up and stalked across the room. "That man spent twenty years trapped between Dumbledore and Voldemort. He put himself between danger and our asinine selves so often with out a word of thanks."

"I'm not going to ague that, but do you deserve to hurt?" Draco shook his head. "I know you Gryffs enjoy the martyrdom, but, Salazar, that was too much."

"I'm not some muggle saint, Draco." Hermione traced her finger along the frame of one of her pictures. "My mistakes cost lives. Good people are gone because I wasn't smart enough, strong enough, or fast enough. I was so centered on Harry."

"It's a good thing you were." Draco came up behind her. "Without your care, he would have failed and we would all be slaves to Voldemort's whims."

"I killed people. I destroyed their lives." Hermione shook her head. "I'm no martyr."

"It was war." Draco pulled her into his arms and hugged her. She nodded her head. It was the expected response. She bit her lip. Draco had been forced into a bad situation. He didn't have a real choice. She had chosen to take her parents memory. She had chosen the greater good. The only problem with the greater bloody good was that she was one person and all the greater good couldn't return her parents or her lost friends.

She'd been able to return one person, but what price could she ask him to pay? She couldn't force him to be hers. Severus Snape had spent enough time in forced servitude.

The greater good might have saved their world, but the price was so dear. This time she acted with the smaller good in mind. Her parents were gone, lost in their own minds. Too many friends had passed. She could only save one, and any price was acceptable.

* * *

Severus took a generous sip of the Italian wine Pippy had selected. It was the perfect compliment to the prosciutto wrapped fruit she'd prepared. The elf was a culinary wonder.

The garden around him was tamed and lush once more. Potions ingredients grew next to decretive plants and bougainvillea trailed down creating shade and riots of color. He'd considered making his stop here a short one when he'd first seen the place, but Poppy had taken over the terraced gardens with zeal. The view was breathtaking with every garden terrace and room looking out toward the water.

His relatives had a flare for the dramatic. The house was carved into the cliffs of the Amalfi Coast. The furniture was rustic in some areas and lavish in others. There was no unifying nature to it, but it worked. The place was an ideal place to let his mind wander, and his mind had one destination.

Hermione Granger.

The Prophet was up to its usual tricks. She was supposedly carrying Draco's love child, but he knew that was bollocks. They were friends, and that was strange enough. That Hermione, Draco, and Astoria were the focus of rumor mongering was hardly a surprise.

The absence of Harry Potter and the youngest Weasley boy was odd. Potter articles were sprinkled through the paper. Why anyone needed to know what brand of socks the man wore when playing recreational quidditch was beyond him. It was also something he would have to eradicate from his mind at a later date. He frowned. There was something damning in the way that there was no story about the golden trio.

Had the architect of his second chance suffered the loss of her friends for her actions?

He considered writing to Lucius, but giving that man a free pass to dig into this situation could go very badly. Hermione was not likely to thank him for it. Perhaps Andromeda would be the better choice.

* * *

Harry watched Ron rant and storm about waving The Prophet like a flag. His face was beyond purple at this point, and there was no sign that anything could distract him from this latest rage. He missed the days when Ron's temper could be managed with a quick game of catch the snitch.

He also missed Hermione.

After the fiasco in Peru, he hadn't known what to do. It had been easier to just let things lie. He should have known better. When had easy ever been right?


	9. Chapter 9

Hermione pushed back from her table and left her scrolls to be examined later. It was unusual to have an actual stone cottage on expedition, but she loved it. The ornate wood carvings that served as room dividers were painted in vibrant colors. There wasn't much in the way of furniture, but there was enough for her. It was both exotic and basic.

She had set up a small work table to brew potions for the village. She was no master, but helping these people out with basic medical needs wasn't taxing. Her current batch needed some attention.

She stirred the standard pain potion clockwise and pulled her spurtle directly up from the brew. The surface of the potion shimmered and deepened to a lovely lavender. The scent of woodruff filled the air. Perfect. She pulled it to the side to cool.

She stretched her back and sighed. This expedition wasn't the challenge for which she'd been hoping, but it had been good for her. There was more to life than work.

The orphaned kirin she'd been given was snoring quietly in the corner curled up next to Buckbeak. It seemed every village nearby bred a variation of the beasts, but she had to admit preferring hers. The Himalayan prong horned kirin was an important part of the economy in this region. Their silken fur was prized by weavers and knitters for its strength and warmth. Most of the village raised them.

The rare herbs and teas required special care, but a herd of the magical beasts was mostly self reliant. The local farmers took turns minding the towns herd. When they had brought her the still and unmoving fawn, she'd wanted to cry. She'd curled her body around the beast and prayed for mercy from every god and goddess that might listen. Buckbeak had settled his bulk on the ground next to her and covered them over with one wing.

In the morning, the baby had warmed and settled into a life of domesticated bliss. Little Nanga's coat wasn't fully formed. The distinct blue and green scale shaped striping had yet to emerge in her white hair, but pronged horns were starting to shine a bit, like old pewter. It was apparently a sure sign that the fawn's health was improving. If she hadn't adopted the creature, it would have died.

Charlie Weasley was already working on obtaining the permits she would need to keep the creature in England. If he had any trouble, she would get Lucius to handle it. If they both failed, she could make a home here. It was a peaceful place. Buckbeak was happy.

She sat down to her tepid tea, but she couldn't be bothered to warm it. Her eyes slid to the pile of owl post she hadn't opened. She knew Astoria's letter would be full of wedding preparations, and Draco's would have at least one request to join her to escape those same preparations. She was saving those for later because they always made her smile. Lucius would hide his interest in her wellbeing in requests for information about the expedition. Keeping correspondence with the man was a form of mental fencing. Narcissa's letter would include offers of supplies and requests for her swift return. Andromeda's missive would include pictures of Teddy and the others. She had retreated to showing her what she was missing.

If someone had told her that she would find her family with the Malfoys and Blacks, she would have laughed. Now, she thanked all the gods and goddesses for them. They filled her life with joy from half a world away.

She closed her eyes and let her thoughts run free. She supposed it was a good thing that she no longer feared visions of the final battle or its costs. She didn't think about everything she had lost. She thought about Severus.

He was out in the world. He was living his life free of the burdens he'd carried for years. She imagined him in some apothecary, trolling for rare ingredients.

She'd read about the potion he'd helped develop to heal roanes. It was a remarkable advancement, and it wouldn't be his last. His remarkable talents would serve to improve the world

She took a deep breath and stood up. There were potions to bottle. The knowledge Severus had instilled in her was needed here.

* * *

Severus tossed in his bed. The slide of the sheets against his flesh didn't offer any kind of distraction from his racing thoughts. Nothing did.

England loomed up, a demanding dream of green fields and damp. He could feel the familiar weight of the air on his skin. Even thinking of returning to his homeland made him feel claustrophobic, but he would go for Draco. It was the right thing to do.

He rolled over and looked at the small box wrapped in white paper and tied with a black ribbon. He didn't know if sending Hermione a gift was the right thing, but he'd seen the intaglio and been unable to stop himself.

He had traced a finger over it and could imagine her doing the same. The woman carved into the stone was holding a flower that looked remarkably like the tattoo on her back. He'd barely haggled with the shopkeeper.

He wanted to see her wear it.

Was it some primal need to mark her? He rubbed a hand through his hair.

He ran his fingers over the runes carved into the stone hanging around his neck.

Freedom.

The word didn't hold the wonder it had at first.

He closed his eyes and tried to imagine her wearing it.

"She'd probably prefer a book." He flopped on to his back. He'd send the package tomorrow.

* * *

Ron stared into the cauldron. This potion was complicated, but he had managed it. He looked down at the pearlescent liquid and grinned.

It was good to succeed. He was damn tired of everything going wrong in his life. He picked up the dark glass vial and ladled the potion into it. Sunlight would weaken its strength. He corked the vial and put it into a cushion charmed box to keep it safe and sound.

His eyes trailed over the clippings on his table. Hermione smiled up at Draco Malfoy as they danced. She was beautiful. Deluded, but lovely. He felt the stirrings of his rage and closed his eyes.

He went over every Cannons roster in the last fifty years until the anger subsided.

It had been months since The Daily Prophet had published the pictures from the ferret's engagement ball. She wasn't the one tying her life to the death eater's. He knew she'd left on a trip to chase yetis or some other ridiculous thing, but none of that mattered.

He had to move forward not back. He had to think about the future. It was going to be wonderful.


	10. Chapter 10

Severus had no interest in returning to England. The damp climate wasn't the issue. It was the media circus of which he was an unwilling victim. At least one article a month detailed his lonely search for a new purpose or his growing association with darkness. He couldn't understand what fascinated them. He frowned at the letter from Lucius. The man was detailing all the security measures he was setting up for the upcoming event. There was no avoiding this wedding. He didn't want to be a sideshow at the main social event of the season, but seeing Draco step into his future would be worth it. Staring at the letter wasn't distracting enough. He looked toward the rest of his post with an odd anticipation.

It sat there on his table. It looked innocent, and he supposed it was. Just a gift from the woman that had given him back his life. He fingered the blue ribbon on the white package. He wondered where Hermione was at the moment.

He whispered a quick spell from his spying days and flattened his hand against the package. The spell made him queasy for a moment, but then his vision blurred and he was seeing something far away.

It was a bright day. He could see Hermione with a group of women and a basket of standard medical potions. She was dressed in a vibrant blue robe and a smile bloomed on her face as a child approached. He watched her bend down, and saw the necklace he had given her fall free from her collar to swing in an erratic circle.

He frowned as the vision slipped away. She'd looked lovely. Her wandering life suited her. She looked happy.

He looked down at the package and opened it. A rare tea. He held up the canister and smiled. A small note was folded and charmed to stick to the top of the lid. His name was scrawled across it in her familiar quill strokes.

 _Severus_ ,

 _I hope this finds you well. I am putting the skills you instilled in me to good use here. I was very impressed with your work in Amsterdam._

 _I must thank you for my lovely necklace. I wear it most of the time now. I hope you are enjoying your life._

 _Try adding one dram of this tea freshly brewed to a common pain potion. It's rather remarkable, but I can't explain it._

 _Thank you again,_

 _Hermione_

Severus sat back and stared at the canister of tea. It was an overture. He smirked. He wild have to try her experiment and let her know of his findings. He nodded his head and plucked up the innocent looking tin.

* * *

"She needs protecting." Narcissa glanced toward her sister as they prepared the dueling room for a bit of sport. "Severus shows no signs of coming round anytime soon, and should something happen..."

"Don't dwell on the negative possibilities. We aren't at war any longer." Andromeda frowned and looked up and down the wall before casting a cushioning charm to cover it. "We will figure out a way to keep our girl safe."

"There's a way, but I wanted to talk to you first." Narcissa took a deep breath. "I want to adopt her. Well, I want to adopt her with Lucius."

"She's a woman grown, Cissa." Andromeda turned and faced her sister. "What would be the point?"

"The protection of our house would extend to her." Narcissa smiled and waited for the meaning of her words to sink into her sister's brain.

"Our house?" Andromeda leaned against the newly cushioned wall and blinked. "The House of Black? How is that possible?"

"Our father was a shrewd man." Narcissa shrugged. "He knew with Bellatrix not producing an heir and your choices that I wasn't much of a catch."

"That isn't true." Andromeda shook her head and pushed off the wall. "You were as lovely then as you are now."

"Abraxas asked father why he should tie his son to a possibly barren sister of a blood traitor." Narcissa closed her eyes and swallowed. "Father convinced him to hold to the betrothal agreement by getting Uncle Orion to grant heir status to my second child should his sons fail to supply an heir."

"Hermione is older than Draco." Andromeda looked up at her sister with an alarmed expression gracing her symmetrical features.

"She would legally become our child on her adoption date. She would hold status as our second child." Narcissa grinned. "I think Sirius would have appreciated my choice."

"I think Sirius may pop back through the veil to kiss you." Andromeda slid down the wall and let her dress fall in graceless bunches around her.

"She can reinstate you officially." Narcissa settled demurely next to her sister. "She travels all the time. You could sit the family seat in the Wizengamot."

"She's bonded to Snape. She holds the title Lady Prince." Andromeda frowned.

"Yes, it's a bit ponderous and sounds ridiculous. She also doesn't hold the title until she is properly wed to Severus." Narcissa grinned. "When Sev decides to remove his head from his arse, I'll be the one negotiating her contract. She will be Lady Black."

"She has to sign the paperwork." Andromeda smirked at her sister.

"That's why we will set Lucius and Draco on her. She adores them both." Narcissa grinned and her eyes twinkled. "She'll sign the papers and be happy about it.

* * *

Hermione took a deep breath and stepped into the large cavern. The whole room was carved with ornate symbols and figures. The magic was so strong, she could feel it thrumming through her.

Buckbeak wouldn't be back for her for several hours. She had time to do a little exploring. She felt her necklace warm against her skin and pulled it free of her shirt.

It caught the light and scattered it about the walls. The carvings glowed blue.

"Goddess." Hermione whispered. "The magic is still active."

A wind blew through the sight and some of the walls were traced through with golden lights revealing a deeper set of carvings. Hermione spun around and took in the chamber. There were several open doors leading into the temple complex. It was the find of a lifetime.

She clutched the intaglio in her free hand and closed her eyes. The magic of the stone and the temple flowed all around her, and she felt something change inside her.

She felt blessed.

The scars on her arm flared with heat, and she glanced down to see them heal. She fell to her knees and enjoyed the hot trail of tears sliding down her face.


	11. Chapter 11

Severus rolled over in his bed and enjoyed the slick feel of the sheets against his body. He'd settled here after his swim and rested through the heat of the afternoon. A cooling charm might have sufficed, but he had enjoyed being indolent for once.

He thought of Hermione's letter that had extolled the wonder of an afternoon spent cuddled between her hippogriff and her kirin enjoying the sunshine. The image of it in his mind was probably far more appealing than the reality, but it struck a chord with him. Hermione was not one to laze about when there was work to be done, but she had learned that relaxation was necessary. He'd spent so many years in a state of anxiety that learning to relax was a triumph. He'd have to tell her of his decadent afternoon in his next letter.

Their correspondence was flowing freely now. His gifts still arrived on a monthly basis. He sent hers in a more haphazard fashion. The small items that caught his fancy were always well received, but she would wax poetic over a gift of potions for her neighbors as well.

Learning about the woman had helped him see her differently. She was no longer a student in his mind. When he pictures her now, she was a woman. An alluring complicated creature with a quick mind and a gentle smile. He wanted to spend time with her, wanted to sit with her on a mountain.

Severus smiled at the letter that accompanied a selection of rare hair and antler shavings from a juvenile kirin. It didn't say much. She'd been consumed by a recent discovery, but it helped him see her in his mind's eye. He traced her familiar writing. Though, to be completely honest, even that had matured.

This witch was a woman grown. She knew her own mind. He asked after her friends and received a letter that mentioned many of his own acquaintances and Luna Lovegood. A couple of the Weasley clan found favor, but it was not the pair he'd expected.

His savior had become an interesting woman. He had been so sure she would waste her life railing over injustices and feeding into bureaucracy. He smiled as he touched her flourished signature. It was pleasant to be wrong. Quite pleasant.

With a muttered incantation, he could see her. Her hair was blowing wildly about in the rush of air. He could see her watching the storm in the distance. She looked more like a goddess contemplating her creation than a witch. Her wild hair spun around her face as the wind played through it. Her eyes caught flashes of lightening in the far distance. She was breathtaking. The vision dissipated all too soon, and he sighed.

Her last letter had detailed so many of the hardships she was trying to ease in her little mountain village, but she had mentioned the beauty there as well. He could see what she meant. It seemed she'd found a place to be content.

He had brewed some rarer potions to help her little village, but he could do more. Perhaps, in the future, a visit could be arranged. He looked at the carefully wrapped package awaiting her next owl and considered including a warning about the upcoming visit from the Malfoy men. He grinned and shook his head. The witch could handle Lucius and Draco without his help. The garnet hair combs would suffice to keep him in her mind.

* * *

Harry looked at the items scattered on Andromeda's table. There were many things marked with the Black family crest, and a few that looked like heirlooms. It seemed like an odd assortment of things to have out. He rubbed the back of his neck. Hermione had always been the one to deal with Andromeda's bouts of depression, but she wasn't around.

"Are you okay?" He looked up at the older witch and blushed.

"I'm actually quite wonderful. I'm looking for a gift." She grinned and waved her hand at the table. "None of that seems right."

"Are you having money trouble?" Harry blinked and wished he could bite off his own tongue.

"No." Andromeda's lips thinned. "It needs to have familial significance. I can't just go buy something."

"I'm sure Astoria will like anything." Harry smiled hoping to redeem himself and yank the metaphorical foot out of his mouth.

"It's not for Astoria. Narcissa will handle any gifts for her." Andromeda chuckled. "It's for Hermione."

Harry blinked. He looked down at the items scattered on the table. They were all precious. He knew she had very little left from her family. Most of the Black vaults weren't accessible. There was no heir. Sirius never managed to be fully reinstated and only retained use of his personal vault. It was impressive, but it wasn't a drop in the bucket of the Black family wealth.

"Why give Hermione something like this?" Harry picked up a set a of grey pearls. "She's not the type to appreciate it."

Andromeda's tight smile sent a shiver down his spine. It was easy to forget that Andromeda was related to two of the most terrifying witches he'd ever met. She was so kind and she baked. It was easy to forget until you saw that iron in her eyes.

"You really only see the eleven year old girl you first met when you look at Hermione, don't you?" Andromeda shook her head. "Pity."

"She isn't around much." Harry frowned.

"She has a demanding career." Andromeda rolled her eyes. "It doesn't leave copious amounts of time for her to laze about with you."

Harry nodded and decided it would be best if he shut his mouth. Andromeda looked irritated. He sighed.

* * *

"Surely, we can find better accommodations for you." Lucius looked around the small stone hut. He refused to pretend it was acceptable by calling it a house. She was living with animals.

"I love it." Hermione grinned at him. "I don't need a grand space with all the comforts and luxuries. I'm quite content."

"It's more basic than the tents you usually use." Draco commented and shot him a warning look from his place across the room as far from the hippogriff as possible.

"The walls come in handy though." Hermione grinned. "Remember to bow, and you'll be fine. Buckbeak doesn't hold a grudge."

Lucius glanced at the creature. It was grooming the other beast. He glanced back at Hermione.

"Perhaps you would share the story of how this particular hippogriff came to be here with you." Lucius examined his gloved hand. "It must be fascinating."

"If you want to hear it..." Hermione shrugged. "I have something much more interesting to show you. I hope you brought your brooms."

"Of course." Draco waved his hand at her dismissively. "But we have something to discuss first."

Hermione frowned as both men settled at her table with determined stares. She knew those looks. They were determined to have their way.

"Should I put up a token protest or give in gracefully?" She grinned at Draco.

"I think you should accept the codification of what is already true with calm and reflection." Lucius smirked. "We shan't leave until you do."


	12. Chapter 12

Hermione stared at the documents spread across her table. Lucius was still talking, but all she could hear was her own heartbeat. She felt Draco's hand cover hers, and she knew.

It really was about belonging. It was about her place in the world. These men had been destroyed by the war, but they'd found their way through prejudice and pain to be strong and loving. Narcissa's letter was pressed to the table under her palm. She could have a mother and an aunt and a father and a sibling. She could have a place in the world again.

Draco squeezed her hand gently, and she looked over at him. He was all smiles. Her brother, he would be her brother.

"I will put in an appropriate stable with the necessary cooling and heating charms for your beasts." Lucius glanced toward them. "I'll get my international floo expanded to more adequately suit their needs."

"You want me to be a Malfoy?" Hermione leaned back in her chair.

"You are a Malfoy. This is merely semantics."

Lucius waved his hands over the papers. "The adoption merely makes legal what is true."

"Plus, Mother will drag out the old school dark magics to punish us if you don't sign." Draco grinned. "She wants this."

"Why?" Hermione bit into her lower lip.

"I could list off reasons, but, again, they are merely justifications. You are a part of my family." Lucius planted his hand the top of Draco's. "Allow me to offer you the full force of that. Give me the right to help you and protect you."

Hermione looked at the two immaculately manicured hands resting on hers. Here was the offer of family for which she'd longed. She blinked back tears.

Slytherin family. She grinned. It was time to show them that she was cunning.

"I'll sign your papers, but you have to come up to my site first." She took a deep breath.

"You want us to crawl about in your cave?" Draco's shoulders drooped a bit before he leveled a glare at his father. "She won't make us climb about in the rocks. You don't need your rough clothing. I warned you."

Lucius raised a brow at his son's mocking tone.

"I can already see which child is my favorite." The older man smirked at his son before tuning to her. "Must we scramble up the mountain or are we allowed to fly?"

* * *

Ron sat and stared down at the floor as he listened to Harry chat with Neville. A night at the pub with just the men. He hated these gatherings. He was the only one headed home to an empty flat. Even Neville was happily settled.

"Nev, can I pick your brain?" Harry sighed. "It's pureblood stuff."

"Pick away, mate." Neville chuckled. Ron rolled his eyes. Harry always asked Neville about customs and such. It was insulting.

"Andromeda's been acting strangely." Harry took a sip of his pint. "She's worried about a gift for Hermione. I mean Astoria's the bride, so why all the fuss?"

"Are you sure it's wedding related?" Neville leaned back in his seat. "They are pretty close. It could be she wants to convey that."

"Andromeda's was digging through her jewelry looking for something of value from her family." Harry tapped his fingers along the scarred wood of the table.

"It's not that big a deal, Harry." Neville signaled the waitress for another round. "She probably wants Hermione to feel comfortable at the wedding. That mess at the engagement party had all the old biddies talking."

"How is some fancy bauble supposed to make Mione comfortable in a sea of death eaters?" Ron grumbled. "She shouldn't be associating with that sort."

"It's a wedding." Harry frowned at Ron. "I'm going."

"Gran and I will be there." Neville shrugged. "The Greengrass family are political allies."

"I didn't get invited, did I?" Ron crossed his arms over his chest.

"You haven't been exactly gracious in your treatment of Draco." Neville shared a speaking glance with Harry.

Ron fumed and ignored their placating blather. When had he become the odd man out? He curled his lip and shot a dark look at the pair of them. When Hermione was back at his side where she belonged, they'd see.

* * *

Severus looked at the blue stones spread out on the black velvet. He wasn't quite sure what he was doing. He'd seen the artisan's work in his window day after day. Passed it by without a thought, really.

He glanced down at the stones. He wanted something that had no history. He wanted something that carried only its own weight.

"I can make the tiara." The old wizard waved his hand and several designs floated in the air. "You want the matching set, too."

Severus took a deep breath and nodded. He could send them to her over time. There was no need to overwhelm her. With each piece made for her, he'd be able to put protective charms on the stones. He rubbed the back of his neck. Perhaps it was the paranoia of an old spy, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Hermione needed protection.

* * *

Lucius glared at the girl as she dismounted her hippogriff. It was bloody cold up in the clouds, and those were clouds no matter what she said. He was from England he knew what fog felt like. He straightened his robes and landed his broom.

"Still better than what mother would do to us if we failed." Draco's teeth chattered as he took his place beside him.

"Crawling about in caves." Lucius shuddered.

"You wanted a Gryffindor in the family." Hermione grinned and gestured toward the nearly concealed opening. "You won't have to crawl for long."

Lucius sighed and followed his children into the cave. He liked thinking of them both as his. It felt right. Narcissa may have come up with the plan, but he had to agree.

If Severus never came to his senses, he would take care of the witch.


	13. Chapter 13

Lucius ran his bare fingers along the unmarred flesh of his arm. The odd raised lines of the dark mark were gone. Even as the mark had faded, losing its virulent darkness, the ridges had remained. Now, there was nothing. He had spent years learning to ignore it as it waxed and waned with the power of another. The thing had changed in meaning from a mark of honor that made his father proud to a painful brand that reminded him of his failures. It had been his shame and his penance. Now, there was nothing. His bare flesh glowed in the moonlight. He had never imagined feeling truly free again, never imagined being whole again.

He turned and stared at his son and daughter because she was that now. His daughter. Had Narcissa realized he needed this? She couldn't have known about the magic of this place, but she'd known he needed to choose love over hate, to protect instead of destroy. She had always known that he needed more than darkness.

His children were curled together with his daughter's pets. Both of them asleep. He felt a surge of anticipation for the ritual that would finalize the process begun by the papers he had carefully stored in his satchel.

He leaned back in the hammock she'd strung for him and enjoyed the sway of it. Perhaps, there was something to roughing it, though he would never admit it.

His daughter might have a Gryffindor shell, but she was Slytherin at her core. Dragging them up the mountain, making them believe it was just some urge to see the them crawl, she'd shown her true self. She'd used cunning and wit to heal them. She'd keep them on their toes.

* * *

Severus stared off into space. Penning this letter was taking quite a bit of effort. More than it should. Distractions seemed to appear whenever he set about writing. His mind wandered. none of it made any bloody sense. He leaned back in his chair, and rubbed the runes carved into his necklace.

"It has to be a spell." Severus frowned and forced his mind to focus. Using occlumency, he pushed aside the subtle compulsion to find another task.

He could cobble a letter together, but he needed to know more before he started in on Andromeda for information. He needed to know what questions to ask. He was fairly certain his old friend wouldn't be eager to help him discover what was really happening.

He dragged the parchment closer. It was time to start a list. He forced his mind to the issue. He could feel a headache coming on, but a headache was nothing compared to the tortures he'd endured in the service of his previous masters.

Hours passed, but he didn't notice anything beyond the changing light. A tray of untouched sandwiches rested on the desk. He didn't stop working. When the inevitable distractions rose up in his mind, he shuttered them away. He appreciated the power of her spellwork. It was masterful, and he knew she'd done it protect him. It was odd knowing someone cared enough to try to protect him, but he knew her.

She never took care of herself.

An image of her with the village children filled his mind. She was a powerful witch with more understanding of true magic than any he had ever met. Part of him shied away from his set course. Picking at the threads of her magic, looking for a loose thread might be his undoing. He took a deep breath.

He was back from the dead full and hale and hearty.

Magic didn't come without cost.

What was the coin that had paid for his rebirth? What had she done?

He needed to know if it came time to protect her.

Forewarned was very much forearmed.

The parchment scattered across his desk contained more questions than answers. He glared down at the few ideas he'd managed to cobble together, but there was one question that needed answering above all others. Why in bloody hell had she chosen him?

* * *

Hermione grinned at her family as they played some strange game with an old quaffle. Where Draco had found the thing would remain a mystery, but watching them soar through the mountain air as she cuddled with Buckbeak and Nanga was wonder enough. She giggled as Lucius spun quickly around and caught the ball behind his back.

She had never imagined calling these men family, but it was wonderful. The joy of seeing them strip off their formal facades and be happy left her breathless. She'd watched them roll their sleeves back and grin at each other this morning like first years getting a feather to levitate the first time. Something had bloomed in her chest, something warm and welcome. It was good to have a family again.

Buckbeak shifted next to her and she moved to accommodate the hippogriff. He clamored to his feet and took to the air. His large wings sent spirals of cool air down around her, but she didn't mind. It was impossible to be cold with half of a kirin sprawled across her lap.

Draco shied away from her winged friend and missed the quaffle. Buckbeak did not. He clasped the ball in his talons and began a game of arial keep away that made both Malfoy men chuckle.

Hermione smiled and lay back on the ground. It was a wonderful day. Goddess, she was happy.

* * *

"This makes it all easier." Narcissa smiled at her sister. "If he's already arrived at the water, drinking will be the next logical step."

"Severus has never been easily led." Andromeda rested her chin in her palm and stirred her tea listlessly with her free hand. The lush plant life surrounding them as the had their tea in the conservatory wasn't distracting her. "Are you sure this is the right thing to do? Hermione went to a great deal of trouble to provide him with his freedom."

"My daughter has a martyr complex." Narcissa frowned. "Sacrifice is all well and good. I admire it, but I won't let her suffer for it. What if he married someone else? Can you imagine?"

"She may not have signed the papers yet." Andromeda plucked her spoon from the swirling liquid before her. "I do understand that his marriage to another would be a disaster, but he might resent it if we interfere."

"She will be my daughter soon enough. Lucius will not fail." Narcissa smirked. "Draco will make sure of it. As my child, any attempts to help her toward happiness are merely the loving guidance of a mother's hands. He will understand my maternal urges."

"He won't have a choice." Andromeda slid the letter they'd been assessing back into its envelope.

Both women chuckled and sipped at their tea.

* * *

Ron cursed under his breath. He'd wasted the night trying to get information. Harry had no idea when Hermione would be back where she belonged. The best he could get out of him was some vague maybe about the upcoming wedding of the century. Why would they invite a old flame to their nuptials? It made no bloody sense.

He glared around his small flat. It wasn't the home he wanted. It wasn't the place he deserved. He tossed his wand down and collapsed on his overstuffed red sofa. It was the only thing he really liked about the place. It was just like the ones in the Gryffindor common room.

"She'll fix it." He stared up at the ceiling. "She always knows what's needed."


	14. Chapter 14

Severus examined the picture on the front of The Prophet. She was there. It wasn't an illusion. Hermione Granger Malfoy Black stood between her newly minted parents while her brother and her aunt flanked them. It was an impressive photo.

The odd speculation about the rituals and reasons meant nothing to him. The witch was an expert on arcane ceremonies. He knew she wouldn't have taken a wrong step.

He opened to the indicated page to see further pictures. His hands were shaking. Hermione had been a well connected witch with a great deal of power. As the head of the House of Black, she had recalled the seat to the Wizengamot. There was a picture of it in all its ebon glory. There was an article devoted to speculation about Hermione's political goals as the first muggleborn to join the august body.

There was an article rehashing her involvement in the war.

There was an article concerning her fashion choices.

He was fairly certain there was an article discussing her O.W.L. results though he wouldn't need to read that one.

The photos were far more interesting. He could see Narcissa's cunning in each one. Draco and Hermione shoving each other playfully between their parents with Astoria shoving in between them and the three all giggling put paid to any rumors of impropriety. Hermione and Lucius reading in the library with her newest beast resting at their feet illustrated her true acceptance into the family. Each photo had its place and its reason.

The last one was the one that caught his attention most. Hermione was walking with Lupin's boy. His hair was curly and his tiny fingers flexed in hers. The little boy kept glancing up at her as if she held all the secrets of the universe. Severus knew the feeling.

* * *

Harry took a deep breath and watched as Ron stormed around his office waving the morning paper like a madman. It was the third day in the row for this particular show, and it wasn't all that amusing anymore. He saw other aurors sniggering as they passed by his open door, and wondered if Ron realized he had become the office prat.

"We need to check her for curses." Ron slammed the flat of his hand down on the desk. "Look at her. He waved the paper in his other hand. She's living at that place, hosting some damned tea with her new mother."

"She's hosting a tea for Astoria's peers. Ginny is invited. Fleur, too." Harry pushed back from his desk. "I wouldn't try to stop them from going. Fleur is particularly excited."

"She's a veela." Ron dragged his hand along the dark wood of the desk top leaving sweaty lines in his wake. "There will be a lot of powerful people there. It's instinct. Bill won't let her go."

"I think Bill will let her do whatever she wants. He's good friends with Mione as well." Harry stood up and braced his hands on his desk. "I may not understand all of Heemione's choices, but she's happy. You have to see it in those pictures you can't stand. She's happy. Accept it and let her be."

"What?" Ron shook his head and set his hair to flopping about. "You're joining the Malfoy circus, too? Andromeda should be ashamed of herself. I don't know how Tonks is supposed to rest easy when her son is cavorting with her murderer's family."

"My grandmother was part of that family." Harry pushed away from his desk and began to pace. "You need to think about your life and quit focusing on Hermione. She's made it pretty clear that she isn't interested in your opinion. To be frank, neither am I."

A wave of his fingers sent Ron stumbling towards the door. The maroon color of his face was worrisome, but Harry waved him off with a smile. It was time someone taught the man a lesson.

"Do your job." Harry smiled. "Focus on the what needs to be done for once."

Harry took a deep breath after his office door closed. He would have to warn Ginny and the others about the storm headed in their direction.

"Merlin, help me." Harry rubbed his palm against his forehead. "I should tell Robards to put a larger detail on the Wizengamot when she does the accounting."

* * *

Draco sat next to his father in the gallery with the appropriately bored expression plastered on his face. He knew Hermione wasn't going to bow her head and meekly scurry to her spot. She'd spent too many nights in the library researching. Her happy smile and sparkling eyes were all the warning he needed. Hermione was about to put on a show.

The glinting amethysts braided into her hair caught the light as she strode into the room. Her nearly black gown was fitted to her form and embroidered with enough protective runes to stop anything but an unforgivable. She looked every inch the powerful war heroine.

He felt a rush of pride. This remarkable witch was his sister, his family, his friend. He looked across the room and saw Potter and Longbottom sitting next to each other. He knew they were her friends. He knew both men were true heroes. He knew all of that, and, for the first time, he felt no jealousy rise as he examined them. She was his sister. His bond took precedence over theirs.

"She looks so austere." Astoria murmured from her place beside him. "My father wore a regular set of robes when he took the chair."

"Hermione has a flare for the dramatic." Andromeda whispered from the other side of his fiancée.

A hush fell over the crowd as Hermione stood in the very center of the circle. The charcoal grey of her gown seemed to rise up from the stone floor beneath her.

"I come this day to give the required accounting of my house before I take my seat. I have spent the seven days since my calling of the chair in deep thought. House Black once stood proud. To ensure that it does again, I have decided that I must follow the strictest traditions to honor both my house and this court." Hermione knelt in one smooth motion. She managed to make the gesture look elegant. He heard his mother's indrawn breath and focused as the traditional onyx knife appeared in his sister's hand.

"Bugger." His father's muttered curse hit him like a body blow. "I should have hidden the damn books."

His mother stood and gripped the gallery rail with white knuckled fear. He heard Andromeda begin to mumble every protective incantation he knew and several he didn't. Draco glanced over and saw Longbottom restraining Potter. Astoria started to sob next to him. Everything whirled about in slow motion. He saw the drops of her precious blood hit the stone floor.

One.

Two.

Three.

He forced his eyes up and saw her lips moving. She was casting. Blood magic.


	15. Chapter 15

Hermione felt the magic build as she forced the words of the incantation out. Her own heart beat thudded in her ears and she fought to keep her mind focused. The metallic scent of blood bloomed around her. She took a deep breath. She wasn't the first. This was the only way to claim the seat and accomplish what was needed. It was risky. Ancient magics came with severe consequences for failure. She grinned. Failure was not an option. She pushed the last word through her lips and everything fell silent.

The floor under her feet accepted her offering and the stones glowed in a wide spectrum of colors before returning to their original charcoal grayness. She felt her hand heat as the wound healed. The spell had worked.

She dragged in a breath and fought the urge to turn toward the gallery. Looking at her new family wouldn't help. They weren't going to be happy with her.

"Are you quite finished with your little show?" An unfamiliar voice pushed the rushing beat of her heart into the background white noise. She looked up into an oddly familiar, toad like face. An Umbridge, of that, there was no doubt. She couldn't fight back the small lift of her lips. She hadn't imagined that this could be fun.

"I'm afraid you are out of order." She tilted her head. "I quite literally have the floor."

He turned an odd purple color, but sat back as his fellows dragged at his robes. She blinked slowly, waiting for the room to settle. The men on either side of him didn't release him. It was good to see some people had sense.

"So, it would seem I need to remind some of the people in this room about its history." She heard Harry smother a chuckle. It was odd how sharp her senses were in this state.

"This chamber was once called the Lords' Justice. I'm translating of course. The languages spoken at the time are no longer much in use. As a descendant of one of those men, I called forth my chair seven days ago."

"You aren't the descendant of anyone." Umbridge erupted from his seat and cast off the men trying to restrain him. "You're a trumped up little hussy."

"Are you challenging me?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Do you understand the risks? I knew what I was doing when I cast that spell. I need to know that you did as well."

"I don't need a lesson from you, little girl." The man stepped closer.

"Roland, I wouldn't." Augusta Longbottom shook her head slightly. "She's invoked the full rites. If you challenge and lose, assuming you survive the challenge, you lose your right to a seat and see your House disbanded."

"Good to see you again, Lady Longbottom." Hermione grinned up at the older matriarch.

"Don't bother flattering me, Lady Black. I'm well aware of what you can do with a wand." The witch sighed. "Come over for dueling practice and tea when you get the chance. Perhaps, between us, we can get that grandson of mine to take my seat and let me putter about in the greenhouses."

"Parting Neville from his greenhouses is beyond my skills, but I would love to visit." Hermione grinned.

"Making plans for tea as if butter wouldn't melt in your mouth." Roland Umbridge stood up again. "You have no right to that seat. My sister has told me all about you. You are nothing, and I will prove it."

The squat man waved off the others and stepped onto the floor. The stones glowed beneath his feet.

"I did try to warn you." Hermione smiled widely at him. It wasn't a kind smile. "The floor is imbued with generations of Black blood. I am the acknowledged Black heir. The chair came when I called for it. The chamber recognizes my rights. To challenge me, you must prove to the chamber that you have such a right."

Roland Umbridge dropped to his knees. The power in the stones beneath him throbbed against his knees. He could hear the girl talking, but the words wouldn't conform to any sense for him. He looked up at her and saw a thousand dark haired wizards standing behind her. One that looked remarkably like Sirius Black rested a hand on her shoulder.

"She's the true Black." The spectral Sirius smirked. "Dark so that her magic may shine all the brighter. Stars in the night, we Blacks are."

"She is the true heir of Black" Roland fell to the floor and felt his magic sinking away from him. He knew his family chair was gone. He'd lost everything in a pitiful ploy.

She extended a hand toward him. He dragged a ragged breath into his body and reached up towards her. She was his only hope. Her ancestors would take his lifeforce as well as his magic. Only her mercy could spare him.

"Your seat is gone. Your name is stricken from the roll." She pulled him to his feet. "If you leave now, your magic may be spared."

Words wouldn't come. Not even those of thanks. He saw the understanding in her eyes and fled. He wouldn't be a squib.

Narcissa gripped Lucius hand. Their daughter had invoked the oldest powers of organized wizardry. Goddesses above and below, the girl might well be the death of them. She took small steady breaths. She'd already given the press enough of a story with her outward reactions.

The power in the room surged and a spectral form flowed up from the floor. He stalked around Hermione and stopped in front of her.

"You show mercy. It is not our way." The summoned spirit of Nigellus tilted his head and examined her.

"I will not show mercy a second time." Hermione raised her eyes and stared directly into his spectral eyes. "I did not want it bandied about that I used the accounting to punish an old and vanquished foe anew."

"Wise and bold." The spirit tossed its head back and laughed. "Are you bold enough to stand before us?"

"I came for the accounting." She curtsied before him.

Narcissa felt the urge to scream. This was not what she wanted. She wanted to protect her daughter, but Hermione had taken the opportunity to rush head long into danger.

"These weak creatures behind us are but ephemera. They flow away and others take their place. We remain." The spirit spun his hand and four other spirits rose from the floor. "You come here, daughter of my house, to judge and to be judged. You have awakened us with your power. Prove worthy and live."

"I come to offer an accounting. My worth was proved when I summoned your chair." Hermione grinned as one of the spirits chortled behind her. "My life is not yours to take."

"Bold." One of the spirits chortled. "She will do. Better than the last few generations."

"Garven the Red." Hermione nodded to the spirit.

"How did you know?" The spirit smirked.

"Your direct line did not last, but your daughters helped found several houses. Bones, Weasley, Gryffindor. Warriors all." She smiled. "Boldness has served me well."

"You are my heir not his." Nigellus growled. "My favour would see you in better standing than his."

She nodded her head.

"You are acceptable. Account for your house." A different spirit snapped.

"The last recognized holder of this chair was Sirius Orion Black. He had two sons. Both were judged harshly, but not at all. I declare them both members in good standing of the House of Black."

"They do not move in your world and you can not summon them back, why do you concern yourself with their honor?" Nigellus frowned down at her.

"I will defend my House and all it's members." Hermione rolled back her shoulders and frowned back at the spirit. "I stand for them."

"Any others you need to defend?" Garven smiled and drifted closer.

"Debts of honor stand for the ill treatment of Dorea Black Potter. I claim the right to stand for her Grandson by right of blood."

Hermione glanced up to Harry. "He is the true heir of his house, yet he does not sit in this chamber."

"You will sponsor his call?" One of the spirits swirled close to her and then drifted up to glance at Harry. "You would give this one his power?"

"He would have to stand for his own accounting." Hermione licked her lips.

"She is acceptable." The spirit swirled around her and paused before her. "Any other causes to champion?"

"Yes, Alfred of the Fen." Hermione stepped closer to the ghost. "I reinstate Andromeda Black Tonks, the daughter of Cygnus. I claim Nymphadora Tonks Lupin, daughter of Andromeda, Theodore Tonks, husband of Andromeda, Remus Lupin, husband of Nymphadora, and Theodore Alaric Lupin, son of Nymphadora. Mine to defend and to honor."

"So mote it be." The spirits all swirled about.

Narcissa looked at her sister and smiled slightly. Hermione was acquitting herself well. This spectacle would stand her in good stead if she survived it.

"I approve." The tallest spirit floated up and looked at Andromeda. "She has vision."

"Thank you. Rhys of the Bluestone." Hermione took a deep breath.

"Not quite finished." The spirit grinned wide and spun quickly to face Hermione.

"By right of kinship, I demand Lucius Malfoy, husband of Narcissa Celestine Black Malfoy and father to me, be allowed to reclaim his seat." Hermione looked up at them and Narcissa saw the wide smile on her face.

"She has no rights to make such a demand." One of the members found their voice. "He is a marked Death Eater."

"Do you challenge me?" Hermione looked toward the woman that had spoken. "Or are you challenging their right to decide?"

The spirits turned toward the member and the room cooled. Frost traced patterns across the stone. Narcissa held her breath until Lucius rose from his place beside her.

"I will offer an accounting of my own and proof that I no longer carry a mark. My daughter is loyal, but I will fight my battles." Lucius stood firm as the spirits flew towards him.

"An accounting with us." Nigellus grinned. "You will stand upon this floor before us as your daughter has."

"Yes." Lucius bowed.

He was as wild and foolish as their daughter. Narcissa clenched her hands in her lap. This was not what she had planned.

"Our house has a grievous debt to pay." Hermione called out. "Bellatrix, daughter of Cygnus, did torture Lord and Lady Longbottom. Her crimes are a stain upon this house."

"Then cast her out." The unnamed spirit stilled in front of Hermione.

"I can not." Hermione took a deep breath. "I will not pretend. Reparations must be made."

"You are worthy." The ghost kissed her on the forehead.

"Lenus." Hermione blinked and two tears rolled slowly down her cheeks and into the ghost's hands. He held them tightly closed.

"You take the hard and honorable path." He opened his hands and dropped two pearls into her hands. "Use these wisely."

"You are chaos in fine form, daughter of my house." Nigellus hovered close to her. "I am not sure what to do with you."

* * *

Severus felt the stone grow cold as it rested against his skin. He flinched. His hand fell onto the paper spread on his desk.

He could see her standing in a circle surrounded by ghosts.

He could hear her heartbeat speeding along, but she looked at ease.

Even as the vision faded, he knew.

She'd called forth the first council for her accounting.

He closed his eyes and began to pray.


	16. Chapter 16

It took three days, three long days, to arrange a portkey to England. Severus groaned. The Prince Estate was no longer actively on the floo network and some damn, bloody fool had tried to take a Welsh Green Egg into Italy without a license. All travel was being strictly monitored.

He knew she'd survived. He knew she'd taken her seat. There were pictures in the paper. There was praise for her mercy and her power. It was all very terrifying.

She'd made a very Slytherin move with the brash fire of a Gryffindor. Lucius probably had his hands full trying to rein her in. Severus rubbed the back of his neck. That at least would be some compensation for letting her get into all this trouble. It wouldn't save his old friend a good hexing, but such was life.

He plucked at the stone around his neck. She'd layered the spells on it. He hadn't even been curious. Letting someone else's magic do for him and to him should have seen him fighting, but she was clever. She'd placed spells to keep him accepting, spells to keep him from focusing, and spells to keep him safe which amplified the first two.

She'd been so clever. He smirked. Tying it all into gifts that showed how much she valued the bond and him. Each gift had kept him safe. He took a deep breath. Safety, freedom, and she'd been the only one trapped.

Bloody Gryffindor.

Martyr complexes abounded in that house, but none were as strong as Hermione's.

The bond she'd tried so hard to free him from proved stronger than she'd thought. If he hadn't broken faith with her, it might have stayed buried under her spells. They'd been designed to grow stronger over time, but she hadn't taken every factor into account.

Merlin, he was grateful she'd missed something.

He fought the urge to rush to her side.

After the wedding would be soon enough to confront her. He needed to get his house in order first. The wards would need updating because he wanted privacy for their little tête-à-tête. He damn well wouldn't have that conversation anywhere near her adoptive mother.

* * *

Hermione stood at the main doors of Longbottom Keep and fussed with the robes Narcissa had insisted she wear. Two days brewing and now she looked like a Victorian maiden in half mourning. Being a member of the Malfoy family came with some fairly heavy responsibilities to fashion.

The doors opened and Neville stood there. He didn't smile. His eyes tracked over her with an odd emptiness.

"The elves told me you'd come." His eyes flicked back toward the room behind him. "Lady Black."

"Hermione, Neville, I'm still just Hermione." She clenched her hands at her sides. This was beyond awkward.

"You aren't. You're Lady Black. My friend, my Hermione, wouldn't call that monster family." He shook his head. "You didn't chuck that monster out. You didn't prune her from your tree."

"I did what was best for my family." Hermione stiffened to her full height. "It isn't as black and white as it seems."

"Neville, allow the lady in." Augusta Longbottom stepped into the hall behind her grandson. "She's come for a reason."

"Surrender your wand, Lady Black." Neville held his hand out palm up. "You may have it when you leave us in peace."

Hermione placed her wand into his hand and fought the urge to roll her eyes. He wouldn't appreciate it. She watched him plunk it down on the polished surface of a round table that stood in the center of their entry. Chrysanthemums and white lilies filled the vase that was centered on the surface. Hermione blinked and looked away.

"Join us in the drawing room." Lady Longbottom gestured toward the doorway behind her. "Quit being a hot head, boy. Offer the lady your arm."

Neville huffed and raised his elbow slightly toward her. It was not a welcoming gesture, but Hermione rested her fingers gently on his forearm. They walked with stiff formality into the room.

"Forgive my grandson, Lady Black." The older woman settled into an ornate chair covered in a pale gray velvet and gestured to a small settee across from it. "He had expectations of your accounting."

"I could not cast Bellatrix out." Hermione sat at the edge of the seat and crossed her ankles. "As Head of House, should she ever return, I would have the power to stop her."

"She's dead." Neville snorted. "Where she's coming back from, then?"

"Death is not always the end." Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to keep from lecturing her friend. "We all know that."

"I imagine you are more aware of it than most." Augusta Longbottom smiled gently. "Being a curse breaker."

"Yes, ma'am." Hermione nodded. "I knew that accepting the burden of my house would change our relationship. The enmity between our houses traces back over generations, but I am hoping to put an end to that curse today."

Hermione pulled her beaded bag from a pocket concealed in her gown and enlarged it with a flick of her fingers. She glanced out of the side of her eyes at Neville and smirked slightly at his widened eyes. She opened the bag and pulled a long mahogany box from within. The Black family crest adorned the center of the box. It was worked in precious stones and metals and caught the light. The latch was worked with a silver lotus.

"A lotus?" Neville looked at the box in her hands.

"It's my personal symbol." Hermione smiled. "Draco designed it. He said an otter was too cheery for a Black and too playful for a Malfoy. I think it looked too much like a ferret."

Neville chuckled and his posture relaxed. He patted her shoulder gently, her friend once more. Hermione grinned at him and relaxed herself.

"I've spent most of my adult life pursuing arcane knowledge. Most of it is useless, but I recently acquired something that made some of that knowledge very useful." Hermione flipped the latch and opened the box. Two vials and two small red pouches rested on black velvet that was shot through with silver so that anything in the box appeared to be resting in the night sky. "I would have come to you right away, but I had to brew the potion myself."

"You didn't!" Augusta looked at the box with wide eyes.

"The pearls can only be added by a loving hand on the full moon. They will dissolve slowly and should be gone by the new moon. It has to be given on the new moon." Hermione stroked a finger along the edge of the box. "I offer this as a gift and as repentance."

"What is it?" Neville stared at the liquid in the vials.

"It's a healing potion." Hermione closed the box and handed it to Augusta. "It has a lot of different names. The Hittites called it water of life. That one seems the most apt. The potion itself without the ghost pearls will heal most injuries and maladies. With them, your parents should be able to come back to you."

"The ingredients are rare and very dear." Augusta frowned. "I've managed to collect half of them myself."

"I'm a master curse breaker." Hermione smiled. "I've worked all over the world and I'm a bit of a magpie. I had everything that was needed. Andromeda and Narcissa offered up the blood."

"I was disappointed that you didn't blast that crazy creature from your family tree, but I do understand." Augusta held the box close to her chest. "This is the greatest gift. Would your House consider an alliance with ours?"

"Yes." Hermione smiled and leaned into Neville as he hugged her against him.

* * *

"I don't see why we are required to go socialize with your Gryffindor friends." Draco glared at his sister as she flicked her long hair over her shoulder. "They won't be thrilled that you included us."

"You're my family. I want you there." Hermione smiled at him.

"Your pretty smile won't always work." Draco crossed his arms across his chest and glared at Hermione.

"Sure, it will." Astoria grinned. "She's your sister."

Draco watched as his sister and his fiancée smirked at him and decided to live to fight another day.

"Fine, let's go. How bad can one party be?" Draco shrugged. "Tomorrow, you can help me greet all the out of town guests that are coming in early."

"Throwing me to the wolves?" Hermione slipped an arm around his waist from one side.

"You can talk to the overly intellectual ones." Draco smirked. "There's some pair of masters coming in from Spain."

"And Draco likes everyone to think he's just pretty." Astoria slid her arm around him from the other side. "So, pretty."

Draco grinned and dragged both women off toward the floo. There was a chance he could hex someone if they insulted either of his girls. It might just be a perfect night.


	17. Chapter 17

Ron watched as Hermione danced with Neville. She grinned up at him as he spun her about on the dance floor. It was good to see her spending time with appropriate people, but it didn't change the fact that she'd arrived with Slytherins in tow.

Malfoy was standing with his arm around the future Mrs. Malfoy on the far side of the room. Everyone laughed at his little stories and his supposed wit. It was disgusting watching his friends fawn all over the git. They were all as blind as Hermione.

They'd pulled her into their little fold to use her. They wanted her to legitimize their presence in society, but the brightest witch of her bloody age was too caught up in it all to see it. He watched Malfoy watching her.

It was sick.

it was so possessive.

"Hello, Ron." Luna slid up next to him and touched his arm gently. "There are a lot of gnarly hum ditters flying around you. You shouldn't do anything rash."

"Yeah, fine." Ron rolled his eyes. "I won't do anything without thinking it through."

"But, are you thinking clearly?" Luna tilted her head and looked him over carefully. "Sometimes its best to sleep on it. Gnarly hum ditters don't swarm the sleeping."

"Sure." Ron looked around the room for anything to distract her and his eyes landed on her date. "Your guy looks lonely, maybe you should go dance with him."

"Rolf is fine." Luna smiled at her beau. "I do think a good nap would do you wonders."

* * *

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience of our early arrival." Hernán Aiza looked up at the tall blonde Englishman beside him. "Traveling with my wife's precious supplies and my own less interesting ones usually takes longer. They cleared us through the international floo so quickly."

"It's an honor to spend our time with a master such as yourself." Lucius Malfoy inclined his head respectfully. "My daughter can not wait to chat with you. Prepare yourself because she is a delightful nuisance when she wants to know something."

"Delightful nuisance?" Hernán smiled and waited for the proud father to fill the silence.

"She never stops. I've considered putting wards on the library to limit the hours she can spend there, but she'd retaliate." Lucius grinned. "She's quite creative, so I don't take unnecessary risks. My son spent a week unable to find his way in this house. He wound up staying elsewhere because the elves were so annoyed."

"Annoyed elves?" The Spaniard raised a brow.

"Part of the hex kept him from asking for help." Lucius shook his head. "They'd find him in the oddest places."

"I imagine he holds his own." Hernán grinned. "Siblings usually do."

"He turned all her clothing a particular shade of green as a joke to start the whole thing. He'd best take his lumps. My wife was less amused than my daughter. She was the one that had purchased it all." Lucius chuckled. "If they joined forces..."

"Yes, I understand. My Mariposa is quite enough for me." Hernán took a sip of the excellent port he'd been given. "Severus needs such a one to keep him from boredom."

"He will never be bored." Lucius lifted his glass. "Terrified, but never bored."

* * *

Draco enjoyed the pulsing music as he danced with Astoria and Hermione. He supposed he was dancing with the whole room, but it didn't matter. He'd escaped a weird conversation with the Lovegood girl, managed to annoy but not offend Saint Potter, and kept the unnecessary touching that gryffs were so fond of to a minimum. Best of all, Ronald Weasley had steered well away from them.

Socializing with this boisterous and obnoxious bunch was worth it. He watched as his sister twirled about laughing. She was so full of joy.

Astoria giggled and spun around Hermione and he felt his heart beat faster. It seemed his beloved liked playing the Gryffindor from time to time. He pulled Tory into his arms and laughed as she pouted up at him. It was too loud to converse, so he kissed her soundly. It really was a perfect evening.

* * *

Andromeda closed the door to Teddy's room. He was sleeping soundly. She took a deep breath. These last few days had been so hard. Things were finally right. She was a member of her family. She respected her head of house. Teddy's future was secure. She sat in the window seat that her Ted had crafted for her. His own hands had set each piece. He'd fudged a bit with magic, using sticking charms to hold the boards as he nailed them, but it didn't matter to her.

It was the one place where she could still feel him. His warm solid body had held her through all their years together. His steady nature had helped her settle and abandon the bouts of mania to which she'd been prone. She ran her fingers along the odd round scar where he'd hit the board with a charmed hammer. The cushions hid it from view, but her fingers could always find it. She pressed her face against the cold glass and let the tears come.

* * *

Harry spun Ginny out in and let her sashay around in some sort elaborate dance. He was the trellis, and she was the vine. She insisted that dancing was a necessity. He felt he spent enough time muddling about, but watching Hermione glide around the room with Zabini while Malfoy took Astoria around made it obvious Ginny was right.

"I didn't expect Zabini to show up." Ginny frowned. "I know he's a friend of Draco's, but she can do so much better."

"What do you mean?" Harry put his hands awkwardly on her hips.

"I mean she's your best friend, the greatest heiress of our generation, and the head of an ancient and noble house." Ginny rolled her eyes. "They're all going to be chasing after her now."

"She doesn't care about that stuff." Harry shook his head. "She's still just Hermione."

"Sure, she is." Ginny sighed.

"You don't think she is?" Harry managed a decent spin around the floor and watched Ginny's eyes.

"I think Ron needs to realize he's out of the running before he does something stupid." Ginny leaned her head on his shoulder. "She really has moved on."

* * *

Severus walked through his garden. The night blooming flowers perfumed the air. The moonlight reflected off bits of mica mixed in the gravel paths. The overall effect was lovely. The house wasn't as grand as the Malfoy seat, but it was roomy and well situated. The predictable verdant lawns and a bit of forest were complimented by the babbling river that could be heard in the distance.

The elves had managed to make the place livable. They'd all but shoved him out the door as they ripped covers off the clothing and polished every surface to a gleam. He'd barely caught a glimpse of his home, but their dedication reflected in each shining window. The golden glow from inside the house soothed him. He lowered himself to a strategically placed bench and took a deep breath.

It was exactly the place to which he wanted to return at the end of a long expedition.

He hoped it found favor in her eyes.

* * *

Hermione shoved Blaise on the shoulder and smirked as the Slytherin headed back into the dancing throng. Draco chuckled at her expression. His mirth annoyed and amused her.

"You can't blame him for trying." Draco grinned. "He sees the power. He flies towards it."

"Maybe he's part moth." Astoria rolled her eyes.

"I'm not interested in a relationship." Hermione glared at them both. "I'm not on the market."

"We know." Astoria darted over and hugged her closely.

"You've corrupted her with all your open affection." Draco rolled his eyes and pulled his fiancée back from her. "I'm not into any kinky sharing thing despite what the papers say."

"So, there won't be an incestuous love child for the house of Black?" Hermione covered her mouth with a wildly shaking hand. "However will I go on?"

"Your mother will be so disappointed." Astoria shook her head and giggled. "Family traditions are important."

"You are both pure evil." Draco smirked, but stilled as he caught sight of the Weasel approaching. "Incoming."

He saw Hermione glance in the direction he'd been looking. She looked back at him and rolled her eyes dramatically before adapting an aloof expression that would have made their Mum proud.

Astoria melted into his side and took on her clingy sidekick routine. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. She did a good job of appearing harmless, but she was quick as a viper with a spell or an observation.

"Mione?" Ron smiled and shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot. "I'm sorry. I've been an unmitigated arse."

"You have." She crossed her arms and leaned back from him onto her heels.

"I know this isn't the right place. Harry told me to leave you be, but, I just, I want my friend back."

"It isn't that easy." Hermione sighed. "We aren't children at school anymore."

"Could it be a start?" Ron looked up at her through his shaggy, unkempt hair.

"Can you accept my family?" Hermione stepped closer to Draco.

Draco watched the redhead struggle and then nod. The capitulation was too quick.

"If that's what it takes." He extended his hand out to Draco. "I used to be a decent bloke. Having her around made me a better sort. I've been an arse. I hope we might try to get along."

"It takes more than words to convince me of sincerity." Draco examined the dolt's hand. "I won't be taking your hand today. That's for bloody sure."

"Well, let's just share a drink then." Ron flipped his wand and a tray came floating towards them. "It used to be Mione's favorite."

"You just happened to have it on hand?" Draco stopped the tray with a simple touch.

"I planned to talk with you lot." Ron shifted uncomfortably again. "Then Harry told me not to bother you. I just couldn't let this chance pass. The bottles aren't opened. I could just take them..."

He stepped back and the tray drifted away from Draco's hand. Weasel's obvious dejection proved one step too far for Hermione though. She took a deep breath and grabbed Ron's arm.

"Give me one." Hermione grinned at him. "One drink with an old friend won't kill me."


	18. Chapter 18

Hermione felt her magic swell up protectively within her even as she started to fall. It was a bit like being hit with a numbing curse, Novocain for the whole body. She saw Draco rushing toward her, but she couldn't raise her hands to soothe his panic. She couldn't do anything but tumble to the ground.

She'd relaxed. She'd let her guard down. Moody was going to rip her to shreds on the other side of the veil if this went badly.

She heard Harry yelling. It was a bit like being back in the war. She felt Draco gathering her into his arms. Her brother. He was trembling like a leaf. She wanted to pat his shoulder and comfort him, but there was nothing she could do. If Draco was this distraught in public, things were pretty much pear shaped. Goddess, her family was going to cause a whole world of trouble.

Draco was whispering into her hair. His words were broken into an odd phonetic train. It wasn't one she could catch.

The heat of his arms was comforting as the cold descended. Numbing, then cold, she knew those symptoms shouldn't be combined. It was dangerous to freeze a body. The pins and needles started as her body struggled to live.

She wanted to scream, but this magic had locked her within its shell. Her own power was draining as it pushed out against her prison. She managed a breath before darkness carried her away.

* * *

Severus stumbled and blinked as the world seemed to spin around him. A sharp pain took up residence along his spine and carried him down to the ground. He clenched his muscles and forced his body up onto his hands and knees.

There was no way he could form the proper focus to apparate. He needed the elves, but the pain sent him off into tremors and dropped him onto the gravel path again. It was as excruciating as a well delivered Crucio.

He managed a breath or maybe two before blessed darkness rolled him under.

* * *

"This wasn't supposed to happen." Ron fell to his knees beside Malfoy. "She was supposed to love me again."

"She was supposed to love you again?" Astoria Greengrass yanked her wand free from her hair and stared down it at him with nothing but contempt. "What did you do?"

"Nothing." Ron looked away from the witch and caught sight of Malfoy casting diagnostic charms on Hermione.

"It's a potion, some sort of love philtre." Draco looked toward Harry. "Check that bottle. We might need a sample."

"What?" Harry looked lost.

"Her drink, get it in stasis." Draco glared at Harry. "The bottle didn't break. We need to test it."

"Ron?" Harry looked over at him with wide panicked eyes. "What did you do?"

"It's a potion. It's only a potion." Ron shook his head. "It wasn't supposed to knock her out."

"You went to a lot of trouble to conceal it." Astoria jabbed her wand into the side of his throat. "You dosed those drinks and resealed them. You didn't want anyone to know. That's a pretty sure sign that you shouldn't have bloody done it."

"We need to take him with us." Draco stood up. "We need to get her to Saint Mungo's now."

"We need to call the aurors." Ginny pushed up toward them. "My brother has rights."

"That depends on what's in that bottle." Astoria glared at the redhead. "If it's a love potion, he's interfered with the succession of an Ancient and Noble House."

"Send for Kingsley, Harry." Ginny grabbed his arm, but Ron knew it was hopeless. "The Malfoys can't just take him."

"Actually, we can." Draco glared at Ron. "He's suspected of an attack on my sister. He will not be leaving our custody until she releases him or death does."

"You can't make those proclamations." Ginny fisted her hands. "The aurors need to be called."

"Do you know why you're called a blood traitor?" Astoria pressed her wand against Ron's throat, pushing it hard against his carotid. "Do you know why your family is poor? Do you know anything besides the little witch's stories your mother stuffed your head with? Do you know why your father was the only one of his generation to marry?"

"You're just a death eater whore." Ginny tossed her head and sent her hair long red hair cascading down her back. "You don't know anything."

"I know that your family interfered with the succession of my fiancé's house. I know that the Wizengamot stripped your family of status and monies as reparation. I know this stupid traitor has opened up the right to blood feud." Astoria took a deep breath and smiled. "I know it doesn't matter how prolific your family is. If she dies, your family will be nothing but a cautionary tale whispered to little children."

"No one follows the old ways anymore." Ginny huffed. "You're mental if you think you can intimidate me. I'll summon the bloody aurors myself."

Ron watched his sister stomp off. This wasn't going to go well. Percy had told him about the censure of their family. It had just seemed like some old clap trap back then, but he knew it wasn't now.

"Harry, get the bottle in stasis and get us all to Saint Mungo's before she gets back." Ron looked at his friend and saw how hollow his eyes looked. Harry didn't deal well with shock.

"You want to go with them?" Harry looked slightly confused.

"I want Hermione to be okay." Ron swallowed down the bile in the back of his mouth. "I've really screwed up. Draco needs help. He can't fix her, but the healers can."

* * *

Narcissa took a deep breath of the night air. The gardens flowed in the moonlight. Lucius rubbed her shoulders as she leaned against the railing of their balcony.

This wedding would be perfect. Her family would all be there. She could start negotiations with Severus for the next wedding. They had his surrogate family here. It would be easy.

"It's a beautiful night." Lucius lips brushed her ear before he pressed a kiss just beneath it.

She was leaning back into him when heat flared through the runes that rested over her heart. She heard Lucius gasp and knew he'd felt it as well. Their children were in danger.

It was a manner of moments before they were striding through the house toward the family room. Lucius strode just ahead of her, his long black cloak swirled along the marble floor. She could feel the rage within him and knew it matched her own.

When their guests fell into step behind them, she didn't question it.

If Hermione was threatened, so too was Severus.

Lucius stepped into the room that welcomed all members to their family. The tree writhed in an unseen wind as he approached the wall. His left hand settled over Draco's representation and his right covered Hermione's. She felt the magic surge as the room answered his call.

"Hermione's been harmed." Lucius growled, and Narcissa felt the cold swirl of rage whip inside her.

"Severus is hurt as well, but they are not together." Hernan Aiza frowned. "What could hurt them both? At the same time?"

"It doesn't matter." Narcissa gathered her cloak about her. "My daughter is hurt. There is no time theorize."

"Get Andromeda." Lucius cupped her shoulder. "Draco will take her to Saint Mungo's. We will meet there."

"May we go with you?" Hernan looked at Lucius. "We have both worked as healers at various times."

Narcissa looked to Lucius and nodded. She would see them all in a matter of moments. The odd sense of urgency wasn't diminishing. She whirled away through space and time to land beside her sister's house.


	19. Chapter 19

Hernán Aiza stalked a pace behind and to the right of Lord Malfoy. He didn't need to look to know his wife flanked the wizard on his other side. They knew better than to walk beside him. This was a wizard of dark and terrible power. It flowed at his command. Muggles believed that death rode a pale horse, but any wizard worth his salt knew that death wasn't the thing to fear. Malfoy wouldn't grant death. Death was a mercy, and Malfoy had none at the moment. The wave of magic pulsing around Lord Malfoy knocked people from his path and transformed the floor beneath them to a mirrored black finish. Any wizard with sense would flee as the dark rose up to meet the needs of a true master, but, apparently, the majority of English gentry were fools.

"This is a hospital, Lord Malfoy." One exceptionally stupid wizard tried to stand in their way.

"I'm well aware of where I am." Lucius snarled. Hounds bayed in the distance. "My family has paid for most of it. Step aside."

"You'll frighten the patients." The man groveled as he stepped slightly to the side. The hounds howled again. They were gaining fast.

"Then soothe them." The pale wizard flicked his wrist and the man was dragged from his path by the floor itself. "I am Lucius, head of the ancient and noble house of Malfoy. You have no right to gainsay me or mine in doing our duties."

The dark hounds burst through the doors behind them. They paced the halls, falling into place around them. Creatures of will and magic, they swirled as much as they stalked, black canine clouds of doom.

Hernán heard the soft prayers and the startled gasps as they continued down the hall. He pitied those that turned away. The oldest magics were not kind things. They were wild and fearsome. The people too often forgot this.

As a healer and a potioneer, he understood balance. There were no simple groups. Light and dark, good and evil, these were human constructs. Magic merely was. It transcended such narrow confines.

* * *

"We need to get Severus." Andromeda frowned and yanked at her hair. It seemed her normally wavy hair was lost in a riot of curls. This was no time for it to act up. "He's at the Prince Demesne. He wanted to open it before the wedding."

"I need to get to the hospital." Narcissa paced in the small room. "Would you collect him? I'll take Teddy with me. If this is some larger plot against our House, he will be safest with all of us about."

"Lucius is probably needing a steady hand about now." Andromeda licked her lips. "I do hope they let him dispense the punishment. He was always so creative."

"If Hermione can not be saved, it won't be one punishment." Narcissa grabbed a bag of toys for Teddy. "He will call the hunt and let loose the Unseelie on this plane once more."

"Goddess above." Andromeda clutched at her chest. "With Severus at his side and Draco standing for Hermione, they could level England."

"Get Teddy." Narcissa glanced at the door. "It just occurred to me that the elves will be preparing for war. I'll have to have Lucius summon them. Left to their own devices, they might kill off everyone before we get any amusement from it."

Andromeda moved out of the room. Her body itched with the urge to let magic fly. It was like bees were moving beneath her skin. She dragged in a breath and forced herself to focus. It would be far too easy to follow this urge into madness.

* * *

Kreacher felt the call. He felt it and ran towards the tapestry. He'd put it in the little cupboard he occupied at Hogwarts. It was not a good place. It was not his place. He was meant to serve the House of Black, but Potter had forced him out. Potter had sent him to serve at the school, and his new Lady had only just called.

He grabbed the tapestry, and the magic whirled through him. Vitality, life, magic, all of it flowed into him with the demand. He was Kreacher of the House of Black, last descendent of Fryct.

His Lady called in her time of need, and he would answer. He roared his anguish and pain out into the night. There would be no mercy for those that would harm his House.

He clutched the tapestry to his chest and yanked the iron blade from deep in his nest.

"You go back to your family?" Frilly peaked at him from around the door.

"I go." Kreacher stood as tall as his kind could. "I needs to protect them."

"I help." Frilly stepped toward him and raised a small weapon made from an iron nail. "I call your House mine?"

"Will you fight?" Kreacher stared into the smaller elf's eyes. "I go to fight. I not lose my Lady. I not lose my House. Will you cut the magics from those what brings harm to family?"

"I wills." Frilly stood as tall as her little body would allow. "I remembers when we chooses the wizards and helped drive the dark ones back. I will chooses your House. I watches over them even when I's is no more. I wills."

She bent her head and Kreacher bit her ear. He felt her devotion and her honesty as her blood joined his. She would bring strength to his House. Fryct's blood would not die with him. The House of Black would see generations of loyal elves from her. He released her ear and grabbed her hand. They left the sorrow and shame of Hogwarts behind with an audible pop.

* * *

Draco blocked the healer from his sister's bed. The Weasel was trussed up in the corner. His tearful apologies were beyond annoying, and the scent of his desperation hung in the air. Potter and Astoria were standing behind him, warding the room against any and all threats. He needed to be free to defend his sister.

"This is the course of treatment. You are not a healer. Step aside." The wizard stood before him, paunchy and bored. "I am the healer."

"So you've said." Draco crossed his arms over his chest. "You haven't made any attempt to examine my sister, so, forgive me, but how can you possibly have devised a course of treatment?"

"She's been poisoned. A general antidote will set most everything right." The wizard rolled his eyes. "It's not as if some society darling will be running about dealing with curses and more esoteric magics."

"Do you even know her name?" Astoria all but growled at the man. Draco smirked as his beloved surged to the fore. "She is Hermione, Matriarch of the House of Black."

"I don't care if she's Moganna, back from the dead." The healer rolled his eyes. "I have other things to do then cater to some spoiled witch with no sense."

Hounds bayed, and Draco felt a feral grin form on his face. The man was a fool. His father wouldn't suffer him for long.

"You all need to step back and let me do my job." He took a step into the room and then was flung from it in a flash of light as two elves popped into the space between them.

Draco watched as the elves snarled and brandished small weapons.

"Kreacher." Harry moved toward the larger of the two. "Why aren't you at Hogwarts?"

"Kreacher serves the House of Black." The elf glared up at Potter. "No more harm comings to my Lady from bad wizard's potions this night."

"We serves the House of Black." The smaller elf raised a dagger made from a nail. "We answers the call. I kills them that hurts my Lady."

"Blood, but not my House." The larger elf pointed at him. "Makes the Potter's Weasley bes quiet."

Draco blinked at the larger elf. He couldn't recall an elf giving him an order before, but he didn't have a problem obeying this particular command. Flicking his wand, he relaxed at the sudden reduction in noise.

Draco looked down and saw the floor turning into black marble. He glanced over at Astoria as the smaller elf snarled at the collapsed healer. He was pretty sure things were not looking up any time soon.

* * *

Severus pushed back the darkness from his mind. He knew Hermione had been harmed, knew it for fact. He took a deep breath and felt the very ground beneath him rise. He closed his eyes and felt the hum of his magic as it flowed through him and into the land only to return to him with more power.

A familiar presence approached. He could feel the magic in the being. Its thrum was somehow sweeter than the deep flow of the land. He took another deep breath and let this magic join him as well. His awareness stretched farther than it ever had before. He could feel the life force in everything around him. There was beauty in it.

Part of him wanted to revel in this moment, but he didn't have the time. He remembered those horrible days after Lily when he'd chased oblivion down many dark paths. He remembered the rage that had coiled inside him. He let those memories free. All the secret parts of his own power, of his mind and soul, joined the howling cacophony of his heart.

He could feel her presence. Hermione. He pushed up from the ground and gathered the ferocity of purpose close to him. He would not lose his witch to the hands of a fickle fate. Magic crackled around him in deep green sparks. The scent of roaring bonfires swirled out from him. It was his destiny to stand between the living and the dead.

"You is the Prince." Pippy approached him with wide eyes. His other elves flanked her. "You is the Prince now. They says it happens. They promises. Now, we fights besides you. We defends our House."


	20. Chapter 20

Ron Weasley watched as Lucius Malfoy stood in the center of the now black room and glowed. His magic swirled out in waves and pinned the healer to the wall. The small, vicious elf danced around him with some weird smoke dogs and cackled with glee while Kreacher bowed slightly to him.

This was all far too much beyond frightening. Ron swallowed and glanced towards Hermione. She looked so powerless and so weak. He blinked back tears. He reduced her to this. His actions had started all of this mayhem.

"Don't kill the healer just yet." The grey haired wizard smiled at Lucius. "We may need him to fetch things."

"I wouldn't trust him to do that." Draco shook his head. "He didn't even bother to examine Hermione before he came at us with a potion. It was ridiculous."

"Incompetence?" Lucius hummed and approached the man. "Or did he have some issue with caring for my daughter?"

"It's all political." The healer mumbled.

"I didn't catch that." Lucius tilted his head slightly and the hounds stopped their baying. "Did you say it's all political? Whatever do you mean?"

"You want special treatment for your beloved, mudblood pet." The healer struggled against the magic pressing him against the wall and blinked. "Everyone knows she's just a brood mare for your son and his intended. You can dress it up in all the furbelows you want."

"I do see what you mean, Draco." Lucius smiled and raised his wand.

"Don't bes killing him, most honorable father of my Lady." The small elf bowed low before him. "Death bes too quickly. I can hurts him so much more."

"You are a servant of my daughter's house?" Lucius watched the elf blush and nod. "Serve her well, little one."

Lucius gestured toward the healer and the elf surged toward the wizard; cackling with glee. He begged and screamed as she began writing on his skin with her tiny nail blade. She twitched an ear and the wizards screams and her taunting were sealed behind a ward.

"I had forgotten how lovely the elvish language is when written." Astoria grabbed Draco's and observed the little elf. "I suppose Hermione can read it."

"Yes." Harry nodded. "Dobby taught her. He loved her, you know. It wasn't the weird devotion he had for me, but it was real."

Ron pushed himself back against the wall. Mentioning Dobby was sure to set this alight with spell fire. Harry had lost his mind.

* * *

Narcissa instructed the Malfoy elves to erect a warded perimeter. They surrounded the hospital in a quick succession of pops and a glowing blue shield formed a dome over the hospital.

"Only those that belongs will be allowed in." The elf bowed to her. "Please be telling Kreacher that we is here to helps."

"He will be well pleased that you lend your power to the line of Fryct." Narcissa nodded her head. Aunt Walburga's obsession with tradition was finally paying off.

"We be family." The elf stood taller and held its iron blade high. "Mistress Hermione be of House, but she is the daughter of ours. We loves and keeps her."

"You are loyal and brave." Narcissa blinked back tears. "She will thank you."

"She will stop knitting." The elf nodded. "We will let her say thank yous."

Narcissa nodded and managed a small smile.

"I have to go." She cupped the elf's shoulder. "I will hide her knitting needles. I promise. Thank you."

She turned and made her way down the black corridor knowing that it would lead to her daughter.

* * *

Severus watched the ghostly figures surrounding Andromeda. It was both disconcerting and perfectly natural to see them. Lily waved at him like she had done when they were both young. He blinked.

"They have her at Mungo's." Andromeda patted his arm. "Draco and Lucius will keep her safe."

"I would imagine so." Severus smirked. "Your sister would make them suffer for eternity if they failed."

"Just remember that when she starts negotiating your marriage contract." Andromeda smiled. "You'll get to enjoy more of your second life if you do."

"We had best be on our way." Severus extended his arm to Andromeda. "My elves are unhappy with the delay."

He swirled them through time and space to the hospital. The baying of hounds greeted them and quickened something inside him. Andromeda released his arms and his elves surrounded her protectively.

"I don't suppose much of anything is getting done here, tonight." Severus rolled his eyes. "Why must Lucius indulge his flair for the dramatic?"

"He's a Malfoy." Andromeda smirked.

* * *

"Why don't you just go in there and get Ron?" Ginny glared at her father and Kingsley. "I'm sure Lucius Malfoy would prefer that to another trip to Azkaban."

"Beyond the fact that the Malfoy elves have created some kind of barrier around the hospital, he is the Lord of an Ancient and Noble House." Kingsley shifted his weight uncomfortably. "He is protecting his daughter. If we interfere with that, there are consequences."

"What consequences?" Ginny threw her hands in the air. "He's holding Ron hostage."

"Which is his right." Arthur sighed. "Ronald has put himself in a terrible position."

"Ron is a war hero being held hostage by a dark wizard." Ginny snarled. "How's that going to play in The Prophet."

"It doesn't bloody matter." Kingsley spun around. "Worrying about what The Prophet will run is not my concern. Keeping our world safe is."

"What are you talking about?" Ginny looked toward her father.

"Before Merlin and the Founders, before the Wizengamot, the Fey ruled. They were and are extreme beings limited only by their immortality. We descend from them, but they did not care for our mortality. We were viewed as weak things, servants." Arthur slumped a bit as he stared off in the distance. "They liked to hunt and revel in their power. Four of our kind were set to care for their hunting creatures when they were not in use. They were Dark Wizards to be sure, but they were not evil."

"Dark wizards are evil." Ginny crossed her arms over her chest. "We just fought a war with one."

"Dark wizards are necessary." Kingsley frowned. "Grindelwald and Voldemort were playing at being dark. It turned them evil. True darkness isn't evil. It merely is. Night to our day."

"So, we're supposed to stand aside and let Lucius Malfoy do whatever he wants to do with my brother?" Ginny shook her head. "He's hurt our family enough."

"If Hermione dies, it won't matter." Arthur sighed.

"Why not?" Ginny looked from her father to the Minister and back. "Why are you both giving up?"

"Hermione is Malfoy's daughter. She's his greatest treasure." Kingsley licked his lips. "If she dies, he will ravage the world. Voldemort practiced a corrupted, dirty form of magic. Lucius isn't some hopped up dark lord. He is the darkness."

"Then why did he follow a hopped up, dark lord?" Ginny turned to walk away.

"He's human." Arthur sighed. "We make mistakes."

* * *

Harry watched Narcissa fuss over Hermione with the other witch. They weren't speaking or making any trouble, but he wanted them to stop. He wanted it all to stop. Hermione had suffered enough. She'd stood by him through it all and he'd let Ron do this to her.

"I should have known he was up to something." Harry took a deep breath. "I was so happy to have her back. I was so happy that he wasn't being a complete prat about it for once. I should have been paying attention."

"You like to take the weight of the world on your shoulders, don't you?" Astoria rolled her eyes. "Ronald Weasley made his own bed. Don't crawl into it with him."

"What should I do then?" Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Hermione was always the sensible one."

"You are a grown man. You've been ignoring Hermione for quite a while." Astoria rolled her eyes. "It is past time for you to be sensible. You've chosen that cretin over Hermione time and again. Maybe he has some good points, but he seems selfish enough to me. Love potions are nothing more than long term rape. He was planning to force my future sister into a relationship she did not want. How can that be justified?"

"It can't be. I know that." Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "They've both played such large parts in my life, and I thought I was doing the right thing by not picking sides."

"You were picking his side again and again. When he attacked Draco, he didn't even face a hearing." Astoria pointed at Ron. "If you'd done the right thing then, we might not be here now."

"The Malfoys and the Weasleys don't get along. It's not my job to punish people for some lingering hatred spawned generations ago." Harry took a deep breath. "I don't understand it. None of this makes any sense."

"You don't know, but she does." Astoria gestured towards Hermione. "You let Hermione do all the learning. You just used her brain when you needed it and left her twisting in the wind when you didn't. Your loyalty to her has only extended as far as your needs have forced it. What made Ronald Weasley so bloody, damned important?"

"I'd love to hear the answer to that one, too." Draco frowned. "He's a wastrel that does more harm than good, but you've chosen him over Hermione so many times. She was tortured for you. What did he do that was more devoted than that?"

"She was tortured in your house, by your family." Harry took a step towards Draco. "How dare you act superior? You were part and parcel of the whole situation."

"She needs you, now." Mariposa Aiza spoke softly. "What happened in the past does not matter now. Leave it."

Harry looked up at the woman and nodded his head. There was something deep in her eyes that frightened him. She reminded him of Hermione. There was power at their cores that would not be ignored.

* * *

Hermione could hear them arguing. Draco and Harry both turned belligerent when they were afraid. It wasn't a good idea to have them in the same room. knowing that didn't mean a thing though. She had no ability to communicate. Her brief moments of lucidity came and went to no avail.

"There is still some of the potion in the bottle?" An unfamiliar voice spoke from beside her. "I need it. She is trapped. A curse breaker might be of assistance. Someone that trained in Egypt."

"Bill Weasley trained in Egypt." There was eagerness in Harry's voice.

"You want me to trust a Weasley?" Her father's anger made him sound so severe. "You want me to let his kin in here?"

"Go get him, Potter." Draco sighed. "I doubt he will come, but it is worth a shot."

* * *

Severus stalked toward the hospital. The wards protecting the area had forced him to land two blocks away. Andromeda paced beside him. He ignored the specters pacing slightly behind her. Her husband had ordered Sirius, Remus, and Tonks to hush, and they had.

He had not been so blessed with Potter, Lily, and the others. She shouted questions at him nigh constantly, and Potter just egged her on. The Prewett twins were hopping about with Fred Weasley. Regulus kept them from encroaching on his personal space and Moody kept them from wandering off. He was thankful Albus hadn't bothered to appear.

He considered sending them all away, but something stayed his hand. It was as if Hermione's kind heart was holding him in check. He could feel her all around him and through him. She had given him his freedom. She had set him free, but he only wanted to be at her side.

The familiar red capes of the auror choir were everywhere. Severus bit back the urge to hurt them. It might serve him best to be pleasant.

"Severus Snape?" A young man gaped.

"I thought he was dead." Another whispered none too quietly. "This can't be good. what with Malfoy losing his mind and all."

"Please tell me that there is someone more capable than either of you with whom I can deal?" Severus forced a smile. He knew it wasn't pleasant, but he was trying.

"It might be easier to knock them about." Andromeda watched as the group stood about with their mouths hanging open. "I am feeling rather like a Black witch tonight." She flexed her fingers and quirked a brow. "Shall I?"


End file.
